Seasons of Love
by Fuyumi
Summary: AU set in the Regency era. Hermione resigns herself to spending her season as a wallflower -- until she receives an unexpected proposal. Eventual HHr and DG.
1. Chapter One : Beginnings

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   


**Chapter One : Beginnings**

"What is the point," asked Hermione Granger, "of bothering to get an education at Hogwarts when you have to enter the marriage market anyway?" 

"I thought that you had said you preferred learning how to be a witch than the lessons you would have taken if you had stayed at your parents' house," replied Ginny Weasley. 

"I was trying to forget about that. That letter did not come soon enough, I tell you. I had already been subjected to one too many embroidery lessons. I can mix a potion, turn a teapot into a turtle, but I cannot use needle and thread." 

"That is good to hear. I was beginning to think you were too perfect!" With that, the two friends' laughter filled the sunny room. 

One would be hard pressed to find two witches that could be more different and yet sorted into the same House at Hogwarts than the two currently packing their trunks. Ginny Weasley came from a long line of pureblooded wizards and witches, but her family was dreadfully poor. She had the delicate pale skin of a natural redhead, with a pert nose and large brown eyes. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, was a Muggle-born whose family had money to spare, albeit it was made in trade. Her hair was a rich shade of chocolate, which matched her deep honey-brown eyes. Hermione's parents had not been very pleased with her occupation after Hogwarts, as she had none. It was not for lack of trying on her part, but the only proper jobs to be had for witches were in teaching, and teaching positions rarely opened up. Hermione had been hoping that one of her professors at Hogwarts would retire, or perhaps she could get a recommendation to teach at a foreign institute, such as Beauxbatons. After she had spent over a year unsuccessfully looking for employment, her parents insisted that she follow the standard of the day and find herself a husband. 

Entering the marriage market in Muggle London had not been too pleasant a thought for young Miss Granger. Fortunately, she had been able to find an alternative. Ginny Weasley, who had left Hogwarts last year, would have normally been unable to have a season of her own given the state of her family's finances, in spite of the fact that her family was well connected due to Mr. Weasley's job at the Ministry of Magic and the fact they were purebloods. Hermione would be unable to have a season in Wizarding London because of her lack of connections as a Muggle-born witch. It had been a logical compromise. If she had her way about it, Hermione would never have went through the trouble of having a season at all. However, if she had to do so, she could at least help a friend while remaining in the Wizarding world at the same time. Therefore, it had been decided that Miss Granger and Miss Weasley would both have a season, combining their finances and connections. 

Hermione was also hoping she would not spend too much time in the city as she did not agree with the goal that her parents had set for her. "I wish I did not have to go through all this trouble," she complained. "It is taking so much time and yet will reap so little reward." 

Ginny sighed and turned towards the window. "I am sorry. You would not have to be going through all this trouble if it were not for me." 

Hermione paused in her rantings, feeling guilty. "You have no reason to be sorry. I would have to go through this in any case, and I am so grateful to you and your mother that I do not have to have a season in Muggle London. It is bad enough that I am expected to find a husband, but I do not know what I would do if he were a Muggle. I would never be able to do magic again!" 

"You do not know that. Surely you are exaggerating the case." 

"Not by much. Have you ever read the marriage vows, Ginny? Every other sentence, the woman has to repeat another duty or obligation for her to obey. I suspect that the woman gets all of the trouble and the man all of the benefit in a marriage. If my future husband was a Muggle, I know I would not be able to use magic ever again." 

"Not if you kept it from him, and there has been many a witch who has done just that. Still I am thankful that you and your parents have agreed to this arrangement. I would not have wanted to wait around for my brothers to bring an appropriate match home." 

"Especially considering your brothers' tastes." 

"That is certain. So you see, if I have saved you from an unpleasant marriage, you have done the same for me. We both have reasons to be thankful for this compromise our families have reached." 

"It is not that I have problems with spending a season with you or your mother." Hermione walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Rather I have problems with the concept of marriage as a whole. To subsume yourself in the identity of a completely different person, one who you may not have known for very long. The very idea scares me." 

Shaking her head, Ginny replied, "You will have a whole season in London to find someone you like and begin to know that person better." 

"How well can you know a person if you only meet at musicals and balls? There are rules to be followed." 

"Now that sounds like the Hermione Granger that I know," Ginny said enthusiastically. "Always showing the greatest respect for rules, unlike the Hermione Granger of the last few minutes." 

"That is different. Rules about how many times you can dance with a gentleman at a ball are one thing. However, rules that tell you how to run your life are completely different." 

"Do they not do the same thing? Either way they limit your choices." 

"It is a difference in scope." Hermione stood up and walked over to her trunk to begin packing again. "It does not matter in the end. We are going to London no matter how much you or I complain. The best we can do is make sure that we are well prepared for it." 

"Definitely. Wizarding London will never know what hit it." Following Hermione's lead, Ginny resumed packing her robes as well. 

"I doubt that. Tell me, what is our first engagement?" 

Ginny raised her eyebrows in mock-alarm. "You are planning your first engagement? For someone who was so set against marriage a few minutes before . . . I have to wonder how you—" 

"Ginny!" Hermione shot her a warning look. 

"Very well, I will behave myself. Our first official ball will be next week, at the Browns." 

"I am sure that it will be excruciatingly dull," Hermione said flatly. "Given my experience with that family." 

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed in the exact same tone her friend had used earlier. "That is hardly—" 

"Polite?" Hermione finished for her with a grin. 

Ginny sighed. "And you know it and do not care." 

"But it is the truth." 

"Yes, but we do not always tell the truth. How many polite lies have you told yourself in the past?" 

"Far too many." No longer feeling like packing for a trick she did not particularly want to take, Hermione instead retreated further into the room and settled herself into a chair. She lazily considered picking up the piece of abandoned embroidery on the table beside it, but decided against that. "Sometimes it seems that my entire life has been consumed with all the polite lies I have had to tell in the last couple of years. It is getting very tiring." 

"I know, Hermione." Ginny sat down in the chair beside her. "It is hard to keep smiling and to continue to be polite when what you really want to do is punch the smiling bastard in the face." 

"I am not even going to ask who are you speaking about," Hermione said wryly. "I do wonder, however, what your brothers would think about that statement." 

"Well, I am sure that you will keep wondering as it would be very ill of you to babble that to my brothers." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Who are well-intentioned, but who have a frightening tendency to not think things through." 

"Does that not describe the male gender in particular?" Hermione asked. "It is very unfair that we have to get married as soon as we leave Hogwarts—" 

"Hardly that soon, considering that you have managed to put off your season until now." 

"While our male counterparts are allowed, nay encouraged, to go traveling off in Europe," Hermione finished over Ginny's comment. "Hence, we are set with the task of trying to attract the attention of some gentleman who is over a decade older than ourselves rather than anyone who we happened to go to school with." 

"There have been couples who have attended Hogwarts at the same time before," Ginny reminded her. 

"I hardly consider it attending Hogwarts at the same time if the gentleman was in his seventh year while the lady was in her first," Hermione remarked. 

"That is more than most people have," Ginny replied. 

"True, true," Hermione agreed. "So tell me. Is there anything else that we have to do before the season starts?" 

"No, there is nothing else we need to do." Ginny smiled winsomely, which tipped Hermione off as to what she was going to say next. "But one can never have too many gowns for a season in London, I have heard." 

"You cannot tell me that you do not adore that lovely pink gown that your mother made for you with her own hands." 

Ginny winced. "I love Mum, truly I do, but she has no sense of color coordination. There are some colors that should not ever been seen with red hair." 

"And pink is one of them," Hermione said emphatically. "Fortunately, your mother was willing to listen to the modiste when it came to your other gowns." 

"I find that it was really too little, too late," Ginny said. 

"I do not think so. At least there are no orange gowns in your wardrobe." Both girls shuddered. "I do not think that there is anyone who could have made that color look good." 

"I quite agree. But alas for me, I have too many pink gowns to begin with!" 

"They are all very beautiful." 

"Again, I draw attention to the color of my hair," Ginny remonstrated. 

"Well, there is only one thing you can do," Hermione said. 

"And that is?" 

"Find a wizard whose hair color matches with pink," she replied wickedly. "So you can pass on those gowns to your daughters." 

"Oh you!" Ginny exclaimed, tossing a pillow at Hermione. 

"This calls for revenge," Hermione said, and the girls soon forgot about packing as pillows flew across the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

As far as Hermione could tell, there was only one advantage in having her season in Wizarding London as opposed to ordinary London. 

That was the fact that balls in Wizarding London were much less likely to start a blazing inferno. 

Aside from that, a season in one was much the same as a season in the other. People still cared about one's background, even in the Wizarding world. If Hermione had spent her season in Muggle London, she would have been snubbed for having her fortune grounded in trade. Because she was spending her season in Wizarding London, she was being snubbed for being Muggle-born. 

Ginny was not faring much better, if at all. Her problem was the lack of a dowry. Hermione thought her friend was one of the loveliest girls to grace the ballrooms of London. Certainly, Ginny looked better in white than Hermione, who often found herself dressing in colors instead after their first ball. However, the lack of a dowry combined with her father's known infatuation with Muggle artifacts scared most potential suitors away from Ginny. Those that did not care about those two items then had to deal with Bill and Charles, Ginny's older brothers, who often escorted the girls to evening events. 

The balls were the worst of all. Hermione did not mind the other activities so much. She adored the musicals – well, that is to say, she adored the ones worthy of the name. Listening to them made her wish that she had spent more time at the pianoforte as a child, at least until she remembered how awful she had been at it. Her parents would wince and stay in the room, but Crookshanks would leave as soon as she started to walk over to the instrument. The plays were almost as good. Hermione had loved reading Shakespeare's works when she was younger, and she enjoyed getting to see them performed on stage. If Hermione had her way, they would spend every night enjoying the culture London had to offer rather than whittling their time away at balls. Unfortunately, as she was all too often reminded by the Weasleys, the whole point of a season was to get married. So it was she was spending yet another night decorating the wall of an already extravagantly decorated ballroom. 

Hermione sighed softly to herself. No, she did not want to get married. No, she did not want to have to pledge her undying obedience to a wizard she hardly knew. Yet although she did not want to catch the attention of any wizard here, she also did not want to spend night after night watching other girls dance. 

She sighed again, this time loud enough to attract the attention of her companion. 

"Please don't tell me that you are counting the minutes until we can leave," Ginny whispered. 

"You know me too well. I am literally dying of boredom, standing here against the wall all evening." 

"I know that you would rather be sitting at home, reading a good book. Anyone who knows you the slighest bit knows that." 

"I am getting too predictable. What would you say if I should do something unexpected such as . . . " 

"Such as?" 

"I really cannot think of anything unpredictable that I would like to do." Hermione smiled. "I was going to ask what would you do if I just marched out of here, but I thought the better of it." 

"No, that would not be like you because you never forget your manners, Hermione." 

"It is not as if that does me much good. You are just as mannerly as I am—and what is more you sigh not half as often as I." 

"That is because if I did sigh as much as you, you would soon be forced to take drastic action. I do not want to consider what would happen to me then," Ginny replied, with a teasing smile. 

"Oh, it would not be anything too awful, I suppose," said Hermione. 

"I am not entirely positive about that." 

"In any case, there is not much point to us remaining here, much longer, you must admit to that. I hate to say it, but we have little to attract potential suitors to us." Hermione regretted those words as soon as she said them for the effect they had on her companion. "Oh, I don't mean to say that—" 

"It makes no sense to me," Ginny said softly. "I understand why I wouldn't be . . . but you, you're rich—" 

"I am not that rich, better to say that I am well-off," Hermione corrected. 

"And you have already done so much in your life . . . helping the Order of the Phoenix defeat You-Know-Who and everything . . . I would think people would forget about your origins," Ginny finished. 

"I could say the same about you considering who your brother is and moreover, who his best friend is," Hermione quickly responded. "Not to mention the fact that you are truly one of the most beautiful witches here." 

Ginny only sighed at the compliment. "I don't suppose you have heard the latest rumor circling the town." 

"Which one?" Hermione asked wryly. "I thought that London, both Muggle and Wizarding versions, would wither away and die if there were ever anything less than half a dozen slices of juicy gossip to pass around." 

"Can you be any more cynical?" Ginny asked rhetorically. 

"Do you really wish to know?" 

"No, not really. But what you said reminded me . . . " 

"Reminded you of what, Ginny?" Hermione asked. "Don't tease me by starting to say something like that and then stopping. Besides, we have at least another hour before we can politely leave so we might as well gossip the time away." 

"We certainly will not dance the time away." 

Again, Hermione was stricken with guilt. Ginny was normally a bright and optimistic girl, but she had managed to ruin that for her this evening with one careless remark. She would have to watch what she said more carefully on future occasions. 

"Well?" Hermione prodded. "You were going to say . . .?" 

"Oh yes. They say that Harry Potter is back in London!" 

Hermione raised her eyebrow at her younger companion. She didn't know how Ginny could have been taken in by that one as it had been circulating the Wizarding World ever since Harry Potter had left for the Continent. "I seem to recall having heard that one before," she simply said. 

"Yes, yes, I know. But this time, it was reported in the _Daily Prophet_," Ginny told her. 

"Ah. A step up from a scandalsheet then. Not a large step, but still a step," Hermione mused aloud. "What does your brother think of all this?" 

"Ron?" Ginny grimaced. "No one has heard from him in weeks. Mother finally wrote to the twins, asking if they had seen him, and well . . . we have yet to hear back from them either." 

"I am sure that he will regret not replying once your mother gets a hold of him." 

"I am sure that he will regret not replying once I get a hold of him," Ginny sniffed. "And I thought I was his favorite sister!" 

"You are, by virtue of being his only sister," Hermione pointed out. 

"There! You see. And yet he treats me like this," Ginny said, pouting. 

Hermione smiled. It seemed as though her friend's good mood had returned. She wouldn't do anything to disrupt it again, for she knew Ginny had enough problems of her own. Suddenly, a commotion at the door caught her eye. 

"I wonder what that is all about," she said quietly to her companion. 

"Maybe Harry Potter really is here," Ginny replied insouciantly. 

"I doubt that—" Hermione began when she was interrupted by an announcement that Harry Potter, Earl of Gryffindor, had arrived. 

"Oh, I guess . . ." Hermione stammered. 

"You were wrong," Ginny finished. "Oh! If only Ron were here to see this!" 

"Hush you," she said. 

Harry Potter had been famous almost since he was born, for his defeat of You-Know-Who when he was merely a babe. He was then lost to the Wizarding world, and Godric's Hollow, the ancestral seat of his family, had been abandoned by all but its house elfs. It had been to the amazement of everyone – well, everyone except old Professor Dumbledore – when he had arrived at Hogwarts at age eleven. It had come to light that he had been living with Muggle relatives, though no one knew why as any family would have been glad to have fostered him. His arrival back in the Wizarding world came none too soon, as he had only defeated You-Know-Who and had not killed him. 

Those next seven years were hectic, and Hermione should know as she had been in the same year as he in Gryffindor. Hence, Hermione did know him, especially as her best friend was Ginny, whose brother Ron was his best friend. However, that was not to say that she knew him well. While it was true that she had been Head Girl and he had been Head Boy in their seventh year, they had never spent much time alone. The rules at Hogwarts tended to be quite strict when it came to the co-mingling of witches and wizards. Hence, though Hermione had spoken with him often during her time at Hogwarts, she never had the occasion to spend any meaningful amount of time alone with him. He had defeated You-Know-Who only a few days before the end of his last term at Hogwarts. Once that had ended, he promptly left for the Continent, which only increased the aura of mystery that surrounded him. 

"What do you suppose he is here for?" Ginny asked excitedly. 

"Considering the way he is craning his neck and looking around, I would imagine he is searching for someone." Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Probably Miss Chang." 

"Oh, I doubt that," Ginny said. "Ron said that he was through with her, and he couldn't blame him." 

"Well, someone else then," Hermione said evenly. "Why does it matter so much to you? Do you—" 

"No, no," Ginny said, waving her hands. "Not at all. I am well over that. It is merely the only thing exciting that had happened to us all evening." 

Hermione sighed. That was true. She hated this. She hated watching wizards come in and looking for witches other than she. It reminded her of how fruitless this exercise was. There was truly no point in staying here any longer . . . except that she had to, otherwise it would reflect badly on the Weasleys. She couldn't do that to them. "Come on," Hermione said. "Let's head over to the refreshments. My throat is quite parched now." 

"I cannot imagine why," Ginny said. "I have been talking more than you." 

"You have the incredible ability to talk and talk and talk without ever faltering." 

"Thank you," Ginny said sarcastically. 

"Oh, I am not teasing you, but rather admiring. I wish I could do the same. It would make visits back home so much easier." Upon reaching the refreshments, Hermione summoned up all her will to refrain from sighing the hundredth time that evening. "Bitter lemonade or cold tea. Lovely. You would think that they would be able to improve on that in the Wizarding world." 

"That's because hosts expect you to cast your own heating charms, rather than expend their own precious magic," said a voice from behind her. Whirling around, Hermione found that Lord Potter was standing directly behind them. 

"Milord," she said, promptly dropping a curtsey. When Ginny did not do the same, she discreetly elbowed her friend. "I do not suppose you have news of Miss Weasley's brother?" she asked. 

"Ron?" His brow furrowed. "The last I saw him, he was making his way through France, determined to drink each province dry." 

Ginny groaned and buried her face in her hands. 

"Oh, that will reassure your mother, though," Hermione said, patting her friend on the back consolingly. "At least he is not in any sort of danger." 

"Not immediately," Lord Potter agreed with a grin. "Though if he continues at the same pace, he will wind up having to move on to beers, instead of wines." Smiling, he turned to Hermione. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked politely. 

If she had been any less drilled in the rules of society, her jaw would have dropped, and she would have stood there mutely for several minutes out of shock. However, Hermione knew what was expected in such situations, so she merely nodded and took his hand. 

As he led her to the dance floor, Hermione could here him muttering a spell under his breath. She recognized the charm as one to ensure the privacy of a conversation. She swallowed back a protest. While it was certainly not customary to use such a charm during a dance, she supposed the he needed to use them to ensure his privacy. Hermione knew that without it, every word of their conversation, no matter how banal, would wind up in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow. 

Hermione remained silent as the music began. As she had complained to Ginny, too often she found herself in situations where she did not know what to say. It was not because she was shy; certainly, she had no qualms about giving perfect strangers advice. Rather, it was that she had never truly mastered the art of small talk. They danced in complete silence, and Hermione was surprised when he did not relinquish her afterwards and instead held on to her hand, waiting for the music to start again. 

"I must admit I was surprised when I heard that you were to be having a season in London," he finally said, breaking the silence a minute into their second set. "That did not much sound like you." 

She inclined her head in a nod. "That is true. Unfortunately, professors at Hogwarts do not retire as quickly as I would like them too." 

His laughter then filled the air. "I imagine any Gryffindor would agree with you there, Miss Granger," he said. "But then, I would have preferred anyone but Snape as a professor." 

Hermione's lips twitched as she repressed a grin. "I have no doubt of that," she said. "If I may ask, why ever did you decide to come back to England in the first place?" 

"I have a few arrangements to take care of here," he replied secretively. 

"And that is all you will divulge?" she asked. 

"For now," he replied. 

"Ah. 'Tis such a pity. I would have been in demand everywhere if I knew the reason why you came." 

"Forgive me," he said with a smile. "So how are you enjoying your season?" he inquired. 

"I find it to be much as I expected," she answered truthfully. "I was must say, however, that I was not aware that my agreeing to a season was announced anywhere." 

"I would not know, as I never bothered with reading the _Prophet_ while abroad," Lord Potter told her. "But Ron heard that his sister was to have a season, by reason of your families combining their resources, and let me tell you, he complained mightily about it." 

"He does not trust his older brothers to watch out for her?" Hermione asked with a small smile. 

"He does not." 

"If that is the case, then why does he not come home?" she pondered aloud. 

"I think that is because he fears what Mrs. Weasley would do to him, especially if she ever found out about his activities on the Continent," he replied. 

Hermione laughed softly. That much was very true. "I would imagine that she would not ever let him out of the Burrow again," she said. 

"You do? I had thought that he would never be allowed to leave his room again." At that, they both broke out into laughter. A comfortable silence fell upon them after that, one that her partner did not feel inclined to break. 

Hermione was puzzled again when he stayed by her side after their second dance had ended. It was not proper etiquette for a lady to dance more than twice with any gentleman she was not married or engaged to. At the same time, given the discrepancies in their social standings, she could not very well refuse to dance again unless she had good reason. 

That third dance was very uncomfortable. It was not because her partner was clumsy enough to tread on her feet. If anything, the opposite was true. What made Hermione uncomfortable was the way he continued to stare at her, even though nothing was being said. She felt like asking if there was something wrong with her face, but desisted, thinking that it was far more likely that he was lost in thought about something else. Finally, the dance ended, much to her relief. 

Once again, he did not relinquish her hand. This time, though, Hermione had the perfect excuse. 

"I am afraid I do not know how to waltz," she said, as she gently tugged her hand away from his and started to walk off to the sides. 

"You do not?" he asked, following. 

"No, I do not." She turned to him, a brilliant smile on her face. "And you are far too kind, sir, to subject me to public mockery of my inadequate dancing." 

"I . .. yes, I suppose so," he muttered. "If that is the case, shall we head towards the refreshments? I must apologize for being so rude as not to offer sooner, given that you were there when I first found you." 

"No apology is needed," she said. "I was not too enamored with any of the beverages." As they walked across the room, Hermione could feel everyone staring at her. If she had thought it was bad having her partner look constantly at her during their dance, this was a hundred times worse. Securing a cup of tea, she looked about furtively. "There are too many people here," she said, mostly to herself. "I must get some fresh air." 

"Then let me escort you to the balcony," Lord Potter offered. 

Again, she could not refuse. "Thank you sir," she accepted politely. 

"Please don't mention it," he replied. "And I do believe I have told you to call me 'Harry.' During the first Prefects' meeting we headed, if I am not mistaken." 

"Yes, you did, sir," she agreed. Her partner merely sighed as they walked out on to the balcony. 

Breaking from her escort, she rushed over to the rail and took in great breaths of air. She hadn't realized how stuffy the room had been until she had left. Placing her tea on the railing, she peered out at the city below. 

"It is so beautiful," she remarked. 

"It is," said her partner, standing right beside her. She jumped, startled that he had managed to get so close to her without noticing. "Are you all right?" he asked solicitously. 

"I am fine. I was merely . . . startled," she replied. "I did not hear you move." 

"I've learned to tread quietly over the years," he noted. 

"I see," she said, turning back around to face the city again. Hermione did not know why, but she was flushing, despite chill of the night surrounding her. 

"I . .. I suppose . . ." her partner stammered from behind her. 

"Is there something?" she asked, turning around once again to face him. "Are you feeling ill?" Boldly, she reached out one gloved hand to lay on his cheek. Even through the silk she could feel that he was warm, warmer than her. She pulled back her hand, but he quickly clasped it between his, as if it were a charm to grant him courage. 

"Will you give me the honor of your hand in marriage?" he asked. 

Once again, she would have stood there mutely if not for all the manners and rules of polite society drilled into her. Once again, she thoughtlessly answered, as she knew she should answer. 

"Yes," she said.   
  
  


**Author's note: **This seems to be a good place to stop. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I'd muchly appreciate it if you could leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks. ^_^ 


	2. Chapter Two : Promises

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   


**Chapter Two : Promises**   
****

A dazzlingly smile broke out on his face at her reply. "Excellent," Lord Potter said. "I . . . I . . . I thank you." He kissed her hand. "And now, you must forgive me. I have to leave. I have some preparations I must attend to." He bowed to her and strode off. 

Hermione stood there for several minutes. What she thought had happened . . . it could _not _have happened. It was impossible. Finally, she deduced that he was not serious. He could not be serious. He was merely teasing her . . . or perhaps setting up a prank on someone else . . . and that was it. Still confused at why he would single her out, she went back into the room and began to search for Ginny. 

"Let us go home," she said upon finding Ginny. 

"Why? Did something happen?" the young witch asked. "No one could hear a thing, because—" 

"Yes, I know. I taught him that charm back at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "But I am tired, and I have a headache . . . and I would very much like to get back home." 

"Very well then," Ginny said. "Don't think that I shan't ask again in the morning what happened." 

"At least by then, I should have a better grasp on it myself," Hermione replied. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

When she awoke the next morning, she had figured it out. 

It _had _been a joke. 

It must have been Ron's idea, as she couldn't imagine why Lord Potter would want to target her. Ron, on the other hand, probably thought it would be exceedingly funny to make her think that she had managed to get engaged, as her parents wished. Of course, he could not come himself as that would tip her off, but if he sent his best friend – well, then she would not have a single suspicion. Fortunately, she had not babbled to anyone about it and had salvaged her dignity. That didn't mean she wasn't going to do something about it though. 

She was going to kill Ron when she saw him again. 

Then she was going to tell Ginny and Mrs. Weasley what he had done and let them have a go at him. 

Hermione nodded sharply to herself, pleased that she had come up with a suitable revenge so quickly. Noticing that it was approaching noon, she quickly got up and got dressed, not wanting to miss a meal, after having not eaten much last night. Hermione had just begun her daily wrestle with her hair when a loud knocking on her door interrupted her. 

"Who is it?" she called out. 

"It's me," came Ginny's reply. "My father said that you are to come to his study immediately." 

"What for?" she asked. 

"I know not why," Ginny replied. She paused before continuing. "Though I would think you would know better than I." 

Her curiosity roused, Hermione quickly twisted her hair into a bun. She was not perfectly presentable, but she decided speed was of the essence as Ginny had made it sound important. She trotted downstairs and turned into the corridor that housed Mr. Weasley's study. She knocked on the door, only entering after Mr. Weasley said, "Come in." 

Hermione was shocked to see Harry Potter sitting across from Mr. Weasley. 

"Hermione," Mr. Weasley began. "Lord Potter here has just told me that he asked for your hand in marriage last night . . . and that you accepted. Is this true?" 

"I . . ." Hermione stammered. She had not expected to face this today. She had thought Lord Potter would already be on his way back to France to tell Ron how well the prank had went. "I thought it was just a—" she began. But then she caught sight of his eyes. He looked yearningly at her, his eyes full of desperation and hope. She knew then that it had been no joke. She knew then that he had meant it when he had asked for her hand, and that he was intending to go through with the marriage, for whatever reasons he had. She also knew that part of him expected her to rebut him, though it would almost kill him to hear her say no after her acceptance of last night. 

And she would not do that to him. 

She swallowed. "I thought it was just a dream," she said meekly. 

Once again, that brilliant smile – that could make the sun seem dark – appeared on his face. "I am sorry. I can see why since I was not prepared." He rose from his seat and walked over to her. "Seeing as I did not have this with me last night." He gently took her left hand in his and slid on a ring. 

"It is lovely," she said, not knowing what else to say. 

"Not as lovely as you," he said, kissing her cheek. 

"If you both wish to get married, then you have my approval," Mr. Weasley said, standing up. "As you know, Hermione's parents have authorized me to function as her guardian in the Wizarding world. Still I must write to them to let them know of the good news." He smiled kindly at the young couple in the room. "So if you will excuse me, I will leave you alone so I can write that letter." With that, he left, leaving Hermione alone with her fiancé. 

"Three months is a very long time," Lord Potter said. 

"It is," Hermione agreed. Half of her was still in shock that he would want to marry her, while the other half was trying to figure out why he would want to do so. 

"I could get a dispensation if you like. . ." 

"Yes, that would be good," Hermione replied automatically. 

"So when . . .?" 

"When?" Hermione repeated dumbly, before realizing he was asking when they should hold their wedding. She blushed furiously at the thought of actually getting married and all that it entailed. "I . . . suppose that a month would be a good compromise," she said, still embarrassed at her train of thought. "That would be enough time to arrange everything, I think. But oh! I must tell Mrs. Weasley so we can start!" 

"A month it is then," he said. "I shall post the announcement right away." He paused, as if considering his next words. "May I see you again tonight?" he asked. 

"Yes, yes, of course," Hermione replied hurriedly. "Though . . . I do not know what our plans are." 

"Would you mind seeing a play? I have my own box, you see, and so we could go see _A Winter's Tale_ tonight," he explained. "Would you like that?" 

"Yes, very much," she said. 

"Excellent," he said. There was another one of those pauses then, when they were both silent as if they were not sure of what they should do in such a situation. The silence was almost unbearable, when Lord Potter suddenly leaned in and kissed her. 

Hermione kissed him back, her mouth eagerly opening to his questing tongue, her arms coming up around to embrace him as he reached down to hold her. She had never felt anything like this . . . so warm, so needy, and yet so loved. She did not want to kiss to end, and he was the one to pull away. 

"That is enough for now," he said, smiling once more. "Otherwise, a month will seem too long." He set her down, leading her to wonder just when had he lifted her up. "I will see you tonight," he promised. Bowing, he took his leave of her. 

Ginny was waiting to pounce on her once she exited the study. 

"I am very vexed with you!" she exclaimed. "How could you not tell me that you got engaged last night? Am I not your best friend?" 

"You are, you are," Hermione reassured her. "I was a tad confused last night, that is all." 

"That does not explain why you did not tell me this morning. You could have told me about your engagement when I came to get you earlier." 

"I . . . do we have to have this conversation here?" Hermione asked. "In the hallway?" 

"Why not? 'Tis perfectly safe from any eavesdroppers," Ginny replied. 

"It matters not. You will not get another word out of me until I am safely ensconced in my room," Hermione insisted. 

"Be that way then," Ginny said. She lunged for Hermione's arm and started to drag her upstairs. "If you are going to be like that, then we will bloody well go to your room!" 

"Ginny! Your language!" Hermione exclaimed. 

"And here I thought I would not hear another word from you until we were in your room," Ginny remarked sardonically. 

"You're just lucky." 

"I would say that you are the lucky one," said Ginny. Reaching Hermione's room, she pulled open the door and shoved her friend in. "After all, you are the one who is engaged. And not to just anyone, but to Harry Potter! You never told me there was anything between you!" 

"There wasn't!" 

"Oh, there must have been, considering how he headed straight towards you last night." Ginny sat on Hermione's bed, eager to continue questioning her best friend. "He did not dance with anyone else, you know, and he left the ball after he had finished speaking to you on that balcony. Was that when he proposed? Or did that happen at Hogwarts?" 

"How could he have proposed at Hogwarts? You were almost always there whenever he and I spoke. And if not you or your brother, then somebody else," Hermione reminded her. 

"But there is that rumor . . . of a secret door connecting the rooms of the Head Boy and the Head Girl 'Tis said that is why sometimes Head Girls have married their respective Head Boys, right after they've finished with Hogwarts," Ginny replied. She choked on her laughter. "And usually, none too soon, as their first child is born only a few months after the wedding." 

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped, shocked at what Ginny had implied. She decided it would be best to ignore that part of her friend's conversation, and speak to the less embarrassing portion. "There is no such passage, I tell you. Or at least, if there is one, I never learned of it," Hermione said. "And may I remind you that it has been almost two years since I attended Hogwarts?" 

"I hadn't forgotten about that. I thought perhaps you two had a secret engagement, and that you wrote to him to say that it was now or never, and that was why he had come to London so abruptly." 

"Ginny," Hermione said slowly, "I think you have been putting too much thought into this." 

"I would say that it is the opposite, as I never imagined this would happen at all," Ginny replied. She clasped her hands together excitedly. "And here I thought you were so opposed to even the idea of marriage! Yet, here you are, only a . . . when are you getting married?" 

"In a month." 

"You two cannot wait, I see," Ginny said. "This is so romantic." 

"You are being uncharacteristically silly right now," Hermione said harshly. 

"Only you, Hermione Granger, could be completely detached by your impending nuptials," Ginny complained. 

"I am not! If you must know, I am dreadfully concerned about why . . ." 

"Don't start a sentence like that and not finish it! You are worried about what?" 

"About why he bothered to ask me," Hermione confessed. "Especially when he could have any witch he wanted." 

"Have you considered the possibility that he asked you because he wants to marry you?" Ginny suggested, lying down on Hermione's bed and propping up her chin with her hands. 

"No, that possibility never crossed my mind. The only reason I can come up with is that this is a cruel joke, fashioned by your brother and any day now, I will be made to look a fool," Hermione said. 

"No, it cannot be a joke," Ginny said. "First off, my brother would not do that. Not if he knows what is good for him. Besides, Harry is not that type of a person. He has always been kinder to me than some of my own brothers. He would not do that to you." 

"If not that, then why?" Hermione all but wailed. 

"For such a bright witch, you can be a dunce at times. I would say that he asked you because he loves you." 

"Impossible," Hermione scoffed. "I barely know him. He barely knows me. We never had any time to fall in love with each other." 

"If you think you need time to fall in love with a person, Hermione, you . . . well, you should rethink that," Ginny said, shaking her head sadly. "All it takes is one perfect moment for you to realize that you have found the one for you." 

"It sounds as if you speak from experience," Hermione noted. 

"I don't. I have not fallen in love yet . . . my fancies have always been passing. But when Mother has told me stories about how she first met my father . . . about how she knew then and there that he was the one . . . and so I know it must be true," Ginny finished, sighing whimsically. "And so I think that is what must have happened between you two, and that is why he asked you, and you said yes." 

"I never said I loved him, " Hermione objected. 

"Then why did you say yes?" 

"Last night . . . because I was not expecting it. As for this morning . . ." She paused to consider her answer. "I do not know why. I . . . I did not want to say no and—" 

"And she says she's not in love," Ginny muttered under her breath. "Perhaps you should consider why you acted more thoroughly, instead of only pondering the reasons behind his actions," she said aloud. "When will you two meet again?" 

"Tonight," Hermione answered. "He has offered to take us to see _A Winter's Tale_, and I accepted." She paused. "I hope we did not have any other plans?" she asked timidly. 

"No, we did not. Not tonight or tomorrow night," Ginny said. "If he made you forget that . . . " 

"He did not make me forget that," Hermione said, with a toss of her head. "It was all the circumstances surrounding this morning's events." 

"If you say so," Ginny said. "But if you ask me . . . the lady doth protest too much, I fear." 

"That is from the wrong play," Hermione sniffed. "I did tell you which one we are seeing, did I not?" 

"You did," Ginny said. "And enough of this. I can see that you have made up your mind to be stubborn. It will become clear to you in time. In the meantime, let's decide what you will wear this evening!" She eagerly leapt from the bed and made her way to Hermione's closet. Pulling out a gown, she said, "I think that this deep blue would suit you perfectly tonight." 

Hermione sighed as she gazed at the gown her friend was holding out for her to consider. It was going to be a long day. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

That evening, not only did they attend the play by using Lord Potter's box, they used his carriage to get to the theatre as well. His carriage had arrived merely minutes before their own Muggle carriage was to be called to transport them there. There was a brief spatter of apologies, as Hermione realized that she had forgotten to discuss whose carriage would be used to take them to the theatre, but before too long, they all agreed to use Lord Potter's. 

Settling deeper into the cushions, Hermione wished once again that she had been able to convince her father that it would be worth it to spring for a Wizarding carriage, as opposed to a Muggle one. Of course, wizards had no need of their own brand of carriages, as any wizard worth his wand could Apparate to his destination. However, doing so would allow no chance to show off one's wealth and status in society, and therefore, was looked down upon. More practically, one would be hard press to explain to any potential Muggle onlooker how one happened to arrive. Hence, Wizarding carriages were born, and they were far better equipped than their mundane counterparts. They were far more expensive as well. That factor, combined with the dismal pound to galleon exchange rate, had led to Hermione's father vetoing any possibility of buying a Wizarding carriage for her season. That lack was soon felt by Hermione and the Weasleys, as the Muggle carriage they had was oft too crowded for a comfortable ride. 

That was not the case with Lord Potter's carriage. Though outwardly, it appeared to be only slightly larger than their own, once inside, there was plenty of room for everyone to sit down and stretch their legs. On either side of the seats, there were small panels, which when opened, revealed refreshments for the ride. In the background, one could faintly hear the sound of violins. All in all, every provision was made for a most comfortable ride. Hermione would indeed have been at ease if not for one thing. 

She was sitting next to her fiancé. 

This in and of itself would not have been so bad. Hermione had become accustomed to spending time with Lord Potter during her years at Hogwarts, especially during that last year, when they shared many duties. However, what she could not stand were the looks she kept receiving from the Weasleys, as if they expected to witness the two of them exchange longing looks and whispered words of love. 

If Hermione had any talent at poetry, she would have composed a sonnet on the spot to her emerald-eyed love just to satisfy them. Maybe then they would stop this nonsense of staring but pretending not to. However, she had no talent for the craft, and she would not subject anyone to her attempts to rhyme. They would have to settle for Lord Potter holding her hand instead. 

He held her hand all the way through the ride. Once they arrived, he let it go, only to offer his arm to escort her into the theatre. Much to Hermione's surprise, it was a Muggle theatre, rather than a Wizarding one, given the fact that Lord Potter had a private box there. Hermione was not about to complain though. She had no wish to deal with Wizarding society at the moment, as she knew she would have to field all sorts of questions bordering on rude once the news of their engagement broke. Of course, the announcement would not be printed until tomorrow's Daily Prophet, but Hermione thought that anyone with the slightest amount of brains would be able to figure out that she was engaged to him by the ring currently occupying the fourth finger of her left hand. 

Lord Potter led them to his private box, and they all took their seats, with Hermione taking the central seat in front and her fiancé to her right. The curtains soon rose after their arrival, and she was entranced by the play. She assumed the play had a similar effect on her companions, as no one spoke a word while the actors were on stage. 

All too soon, intermission came. Ginny herded her family out of the box, saying something about wanting to see how Muggle society interacted. Hermione had no doubt that was true for Mr. Weasley, but she wondered about the rest of them. 

"Are you enjoying the play?" Lord Potter asked her quietly, after the Weasleys had left. 

"Oh yes, very much so," she replied. "It is my parents' favorite play." 

"Is that so?" he said. "Then I take it that you are named for it?" 

"Yes. Mama did not want to burden me with an ordinary name, such as she had. Papa . . . well, he said that he did not believe that it would be right for him to argue with his pregnant wife over the name of the babe she bore," Hermione explained matter-of-factly. 

"Your father must love your mother very much." 

"He does," she agreed. 

"My mother loved the theatre," Lord Potter said. "That was why I have this box. My father arranged for it, once he learned of her penchant for seeing plays." He paused. "And it's been kept up, in our name, even though they have long since stopped attending." 

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, wondering what would be the right thing to say. "I am sorry for bringing up such unpleasant memories," she said. 

"But you have not," he replied. "You did not bring up any memories, and the ones I spoke of are not unpleasant at all. It is comforting to know that my parents were truly in love with each other. And 'tis comforting to know that your home has been full of love . . . I would not wish for anyone to be an orphan, much less you." 

"I would say the same, except I fear my wishes would be in vain," she said softly. 

"Do not worry about me. I am used to it," he told her. 

"It would be easier for me to stop breathing than to stop worrying," she said. "If I have caused you any sorrow this evening, please forgive me." 

"Hermione," he said, "any sorrow that I may have felt from our conversation is far eclipsed by the joy I feel in the knowledge that you have agreed to be my wife." 

Thankfully, their conversation was interrupted there by the return of the Weasleys, as Hermione was too flustered to have come up with a reply. After the lights had darkened again, he reached out to take her hand. Hermione supposed that it had become second nature to him to reach for her like that, as they had been holding hands for much of the time they spent together since last evening. 

She gasped as she felt him tug at her glove, pulling it off. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and she could feel how very warm he was. 

Sighing in pleasure, she smiled. This was the first time that she felt completely at ease this evening. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

There was no rest awaiting Hermione once she and her party arrived back home. Though she had been able to make her escape from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, she was cornered by Ginny, who had invaded her room for yet another time. 

"I believe your room is across the hall," she greeted her best friend archly. 

"Fortunate coincidence, is it not?" her friend replied. "That way I do not have to disturb too many people when I make my way back to my room after you and I have finished talking." 

"Then 'tis an even more fortunate coincidence that we have already finished, is it not?" Hermione said. 

"Nay, you shan't get away that easily," said Ginny. "I have eyes you know. Which work perfectly. I saw how comfortable the two of you were this evening." 

"I fear I have no idea what you are speaking about," said Hermione. 

"You held hands all the way through the second half," Ginny accused. "And it was not just that! You let him take off your glove!" 

Hermione blushed. It had seemed so natural to hold hands with him like that at the time, but now she was beginning to regret it. "I was not about to draw attention to myself by protesting his actions loudly in the theatre," she said. 

Ginny laughed at her objections. "Hermione, I doubt you would have protested if the two of you were alone. Please, do give me some credit and do not deny that you were happy to hold hands like that," she said. 

If anything, Hermione blushed even harder this time. "It was not unpleasant," she admitted. 

"Which properly translated means you liked it very much indeed," Ginny said. "Hermione, there is no need for you to lie to me or to yourself. Why do you not admit that you are overjoyed that you are marrying the man? You look so happy whenever you stop thinking about it." 

"Whatever do you mean?" Hermione questioned. 

"What I mean is that when you stop thinking about what you should do next, or what he is thinking, or why is he doing what he is doing . . . when you are with him and not thinking, you look so happy. Everyone commented on it. We were all whispering about the two of you, not that either of you ever took notice. Too happy in being together was the consensus that we reached," Ginny said. 

"I did have a pleasant time this evening, and I shan't lie about that," Hermione said. "But I know where you are going with this thread of logic, and I tell you it is not true. I am not in love with him, and he is certainly not in love with me." 

"I always knew love was blind, but I never knew it was this blind!" Ginny sadly shook her head. "Alas, I have tried to get you to see what is so plainly obvious to everyone else . . . but I am afraid this time you will be the last to know." 

"You are being terribly annoying right now," Hermione told her. 

"Undoubtedly," Ginny replied. "But there will come a day, when I will gleefully repeat this conversation, and you will be trying to hide behind your husband, embarrassed at how stupid you were." 

"You have gone beyond annoying and have cross over the line to being ridiculous," Hermione retorted. 

"Fine, fine. I shan't mention it again . . . for today, that is. On one condition," she said. 

"And what condition is that?" Hermione asked suspiciously. 

"That you tell me how he proposed to you," Ginny said. "Honestly! Any other witch would have already been gushing about what he said and how it was so romantic. Only you, Hermione Granger, could go a full day without telling a soul how you came to be engaged last night." 

"How do you know that I have not told anyone?" she asked. "I could have told your father this morning when he called me into his study." Ginny made no reply to that comment, alerting Hermione's suspicions. "Don't tell me that you were—" 

"Do not worry, I shan't tell you how I and all my brothers were eavesdropping in on that conversation." 

"Ginny!" 

"What? Bill saw Harry Potter come in, asking for Father, and then I was sent to get you. We knew something was up, and we had to know what it was. Besides, we ended the spell once Father left the two of you alone," she said. 

"Something tells me that was because your mother found you eavesdropping in our conversation," Hermione replied. 

"Yes, that was a factor in our deciding to stop," Ginny admitted. "But we would have any way." 

Hermione merely looked at her disbelievingly. 

"All right, we probably would have . . . well, we would have stopped eventually," Ginny mumbled, rubbing her hands together anxiously. 

"The next time I speak with Lord Potter, I shall have to warn him how we need to use charms to ward against eavesdroppers in this house," Hermione remarked. 

"You know, it is really quite charming how you still refuse to use his name. You have a bad case of denial," Ginny said. 

"Is it not time for you to go back to your own room?" Hermione suggested. 

"Not at all. You have not told me how he proposed yet," Ginny replied with a roguish grin. 

"There is not much to tell about that," said Hermione. "I needed some fresh air, and he offered to escort me to the balcony. While we were there, he asked if I would give him my hand in marriage." 

"Sometimes, I wonder what happened to your sense of romance," Ginny said, pouting. 

"That is what happened," Hermione said. 

"Oh, of that I have no doubt, but you could be a bit more forthcoming with the details." 

"It was a lovely evening." 

"That was not what I meant," Ginny retorted. 

" He said it was not as lovely as I . . . no, that's not right. He said that about the ring." 

"He did? Oh! I knew we should have recast that spell once Mother had left!" 

"Ginny!" 

"Sorry, sorry," Ginny said. "Please accept my apologies for having eavesdropped on you earlier." 

"It would be easier to accept them if I knew it would not happen again," Hermione remarked. 

"It would be easier not to do it again if you would agree to tell me everything that happens between you two. For example, what did you speak of this evening?" Ginny asked. 

"Is there no end to your curiosity?" Hermione asked, a tinge of exasperation coloring her voice. 

"If I find one, you will be the first to know," Ginny replied. 

"You are impossible," Hermione informed her. 

"It runs in the family," said Ginny. "Please, Hermione, tell me! I want to know!" 

"Why?" 

"Because . . . well, if I can't have my own romance, at least I can experience what it must be like by hearing about yours." 

"Ginny . . . I am sure that one day—" 

"I know, I know. One day, the same will happen to me," Ginny said, sighing. "I doubt it. If I am lucky, I will marry, but I do not expect love. Why set myself up to be disappointed? So please, Hermione, have some mercy and tell me what you two spoke of!" 

Hermione nodded slowly. "It was what you might expect. He asked if I liked the play, and I told him that I did." 

"That could not be the entire extent of your conversation," said Ginny. 

"No," Hermione said. "I told him that it was my mother's favorite play, that I was named for it . . . and he spoke a bit about his parents . . ." 

"Oh," Ginny said. "He must feel at ease with you. Ron says he hardly ever mentions his parents of his own accord." 

"I suppose," Hermione said. "There wasn't much said after that." 

"Hermione!" Ginny protested. 

"It is true. You soon returned afterwards," Hermione said. 

Ginny groaned aloud. "I will never get a word for word report out of you, will I?" she asked to the ceiling. 

"No, probably not," Hermione said. "And now, it is time for bed." 

"But we have not finished talking!" Ginny protested. 

"Yes, we have," said Hermione. "I want to get my sleep." 

"Fine, fine. I realize you need to look good for him. When will we see him again?" 

"I believe he said that he will call on us tomorrow afternoon." 

"Splendid. But be warned, Hermione! This time, even Mother will not be able to put an end to the eavesdropping charm that we all will use." 

**Author's notes:** That's it for this chapter. I'd appreciate it if you could please leave me a review. ^_^ I would guess that the next chapter will be up early next week. 

Also, some general notes about this story and the era it is set in. This is an AU, like I said in the description, that is set in the Regency Era (think _Pride and Prejudice_). That era was more formal than ours (though not as strict as the Victorian era), and hence that is why the dialogue is more formal, although it is relaxed more amongst friends. During that time in England, the _ton_ would gather in London during spring, and this came to be known as the season. Young ladies would make their debuts then and start their searches for husbands at that period. A proper young lady would be expected to know and obey the rules of society. For example, it was not fashionable to dance more than two sets with any one gentleman, no matter how much you might like him. One could not politely refuse a dance with a gentleman of higher rank than you and then dance with another. Finally, while it was not required for a young lady to accept any proposal that came to her, society would expect her to accept the proposal of a man of much higher rank than her. In order to get married, the gentleman would post the bans and three months later, the couple could wed. However, if one was rich enough with good enough connections, one could get a dispensation to marry sooner. 

Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed the fic:   
**Leah6**: Yes, this in an AU. I hoped the above explanation helps. And yes, I did get your other reviews -- I was just really sleepy last night and wasn't thinking straight. Gomen ne. And I'm happy to know you like the other fics, though am astonished that anyone would want to go and read them all.   
**Animagus-Steph**: I am so with you on Mr. Darcy, as I read P&P first. And I thought you were doing study abroad and that's why I've not seen you around. It's great to hear from you again.   
**ears91**: You'll get more of the reaction later in the fic. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint.   
**Rose Gray:** Thank you! I'm glad you like the time period -- I know Regency books are some of myfavorite to read.   
**bamaslamma29**: The language is more formal in this fic, but it's a good exercise in writing, I think.   
**sailorsuns:** Yes, partner does mean Harry. Sorry for the confusion   
**Potato Chippy Weezer:** Thanks! I'm happy to hear you think the plot's original.   
**Sarmi:** And why should you be worried? ^_^   
**MQ:** Hermione does know Harry as they did go to Hogwarts together. They just weren't best friends. I hope the Regency explanation helps here.   
**hermlovesharry**: Thank you. And I quite agree with your username. ^_~   
**brazilianfan:** Yay! Another person who has read Regency romances.   
**katebo:** I didn't think it was that bad of a cliffhanger b/c I did give her answer right away. And the conversation is more formal because of the era. Hermione actually is the least formal with Ginny currently.   
**catlyn54**: Thank you for the review. I hope you like this chapter as well.   
**athipsou**: ^_^ I like stories from this era as well. If you know of any other H/Hr stories set in the same time period, please please let me know.   
**Rachel A. Prongs**: Yes, he's more of a gentleman in this fic, but that's cause of the era. It's good to know you liked the first chapter.   
**Izabel**: This is an AU, and I'm sorry if you were confused there. He's an Earl because I made him one to keep with the genre I'm working with. I hope the explanation I typed above helps.   
**SeanBiggerstaffLOVER**: I'm glad to hear you think this is original. Thanks!   
**Dorothy**: Thanks for the review. If you see any errors in the fic, please feel free to point them out. I don't mind.   
**Candy**: I just bounce with happiness each time I see someone else mentioning they've read Regency stuff. ^_^ I'm glad you liked my take on a Regency H/Hr.   
**preggyuo**: Ginny will find someone, but much, much later. As in part two of this fic, which is still being written.   
**Cinderelly**: Yes, there is a reason, but again you'll not find out till much, much later. Though some people will probably be able to make an educated fic. I still read Regency novels when I find the time. Thanks for letting me know you like this fic.   
**Rebeca:** Here's the update. The next one should be sooner. *crosses fingers* 

Thanks once again for all the reviews. ^_^ I really enjoyed reading what you thought about this one. 


	3. Chapter Three : Madness

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   


**Chapter Three : Madness**   
**** ****

"If we have too many more days like these," Hermione said, "I swear I shall go mad!" She reclined back into her seat. 

"Do not say that," Ginny said. "Then even more people would come to stare at the mad bride of Harry Potter." 

It was several days after the engagement announcement had appeared in the Prophet, and the town house that Hermione and the Weasleys were staying in was still being flooded, every day, by curious visitors who came to gawk at Hermione. Many of them were merely inquisitive, coming for a cup of tea, some biscuits, and the chance that the wizard himself might drop in to have a word with his fiancée. That had happened, on occasion, and Hermione always wound up feeling sorry for Lord Potter, as he looked most uncomfortable being the center of attention and getting asked many a prying question. 

Then there was the other type – the jealous type. That type came to look and stare and make snide remarks about how Hermione had managed to land herself the catch of the season. It was easy to tell when a visitor was of this type, for as Ginny had noted previously, they always asked the same thing first: to see the engagement ring. Hermione had commented that it was as if that type had to see tangible proof that she was engaged to Lord Potter, and that it did her heart good to see their faces fall at the sight of the ring. Many of these witches tried to cover their disappointment, by making cutting remarks as to how small the ring was. Hermione, who thought that the engagement ring was elegant and tasteful – and when pressed by Ginny one evening, had admitted that if she had a choice, she would have chosen one like it – would merely smile and inform them that it was a family heirloom. 

It was getting hard to smile at those witches after four days of the same thing, day in and day out. Fortunately, the vast majority of the jealous girls would shut up there and resort to sending icy glares at Hermione whenever they thought she was not looking. There were some exceptions, however, such as Miss Brocklehurst yesterday afternoon. Lord Potter had joined them, after the obligatory ring viewing, and it was amusing to see her turn on the charm and flutter at Lord Potter as he entered the room. Miss Brocklehurst then proceeded to monopolize his attention, ignoring his polite attempts to end their conversation. 

That was when she had rudely remarked how easy it was to break an engagement if one was so inclined. 

Hermione had seen red and bit her tongue, trying not to respond. Ginny had later confessed to coming close to seeing if Miss Brocklehurst's appearance would be improved by the addition of a pair of black eyes, while Mrs. Weasley had said that it was all she could do not to bring attention to the fact that the silly bint evidently had no breeding. 

Lord Potter had trumped them all by asking how Miss Brocklehurst had come about having such knowledge. 

That had effectively shut Miss Brocklehurst up, and she could not leave fast enough afterwards. 

The strangest of all visits, however, had come earlier today. Miss Chang had dropped in with her mother. Hermione had expected Miss Chang to ask to see the engagement ring, but she had not. Instead, Mrs. Chang and Mrs. Weasley had led the conversation, with occasional inputs from Hermione and Ginny. Then, out of the blue, Miss Chang had said that she would wish Hermione well, but it would do no good. 

It had gone downhill from there, with Miss Chang making increasingly bitter remarks about Lord Potter. Mrs. Weasley had wound up leaving the room, professing a headache, but both Hermione and Ginny knew the truth was she was having trouble being polite. Hermione could see why. Mrs. Chang had the grace to look embarrassed, as she tried repeatedly to put a halt to her daughter's tirade, but the same could not be said for Miss Chang. If Miss Chang was always such a harridan, it was no wonder that her romance with Lord Potter had not lasted. She had managed to drive out the rest of their visitors for the day, before finally taking her leave, telling Hermione that she hoped one day Hermione would find happiness though she doubted it would be soon. 

The sighs of relief at the sight of her leaving the room had been audible. 

"On that subject, do you think Miss Chang is mad? She is obviously holding quite a grudge there," Hermione said. 

"Mad . . . depends on what definition of the word that you are using. She is definitely mad at him, but I don't think she has cross the border between sane and insane yet." Ginny paused. "If she had stayed here for another minute, however, I think I would have hexed her across that line." 

"Here, here," Hermione agreed, lifting her cup of tea up in a mock-toast. "Pray tell, what did Lord Potter see in that witch? Or for that matter, what does any wizard see in that witch, as I know she is still madly sought after." 

"Determined to carry on the mad theme, I see," Ginny said. "Oh well. I shan't complain. As for attraction, you must admit that she is not only very beautiful but very exotic as well, compared to the typical English witch." 

"I happen to think that you are one of the loveliest girls of the year," Hermione told her friend. "And you have the benefit of being entirely sane as well." 

"Thank you," Ginny replied dryly. "I would return the compliment, but I am not sure how sane you are now after an afternoon full of visitors." 

"Hanging on to the shreds of my sanity by a thread, I assure you," Hermione said, grinning. "I wish I had thought of the headache first! But I couldn't very well use that as an excuse to escape after your mother had left!" 

"I know! I am in perfect accord with that," Ginny said. "It was very bad of Mother to abandon us like that." 

"Perhaps she thought we were safe as Miss Chang did not direct any invective towards myself," Hermione suggested. 

"Obviously, she did not consider our mental health," Ginny said. "But at least that is over. I doubt Miss Chang will come back again any time soon." 

"I hope so," Hermione said. "I really, really do." 

A small frown appeared on Ginny's face. "Miss Chang did do me a small favor. She managed to drive Mrs. Longbottom away." 

"Mrs. Longbottom?" Hermione bit her lip as she tried to recall their visitors. 

"Yes, you know, Neville Longbottom's grandmother." 

"I do not recall her being here," Hermione said. 

"That is probably because you were dealing with your own visitors," Ginny said. 

"So she was here? How was she? And how is Mr. Longbottom?" 

"Yes she was, she was in a meddling mood, and I am sure I do not care to know the last," Ginny replied. 

"Ginny!" 

"What?" 

"That is a horrible thing to say. Mr. Longbottom was one of the sweetest wizards in my year," Hermione said. 

"I know, and I do not mean anything against it . . ." 

"I detect a 'but' in there." 

"I have this awful suspicion that Mrs. Longbottom was talking to me solely to determine my suitability as a bride," Ginny said. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend. "And that suspicion is awful because . . . ?" 

"Because I don't want to marry Neville Longbottom!" she declared. "If he asks, I would have to refuse him." 

"And here I thought the whole point of a season was to get married," Hermione said. "I would have thought that the idea of a proposal would be very palatable to you." 

"I don't want to have a boring marriage! I'd rather be a spinster!" 

"You must admit that Neville Longbottom is better than a wizard any of your brothers might bring home for you to meet." 

"Hermione! Have you gone mad? Neville Longbottom is exactly the type of wizard my brothers would bring home for me to meet! Because they figure that he is safe." 

"Let me guess," Hermione said. "You don't want safe." 

"No, not exactly . . . but I know I don't want boring." 

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes I think I shall never understand you," she admitted. 

"Think on it, Hermione," Ginny said. "Would you want to be married to him?" 

Hermione considered that proposition. "No," she said slowly. "Because I think I would be able to tell him how to live his life . . . and I might as I am a tad on the bossy side and he would listen . . . and he deserves better than that." 

"That is exactly what I mean. Boring! I do not want a wizard who will wait on me hand and feet." 

"That is news to me," Hermione said. 

"Well I do not," Ginny repeated emphatically. "So for that much, I have to thank Miss Chang. While you hope that she will never darken our doorstep again, I hope the same of Mrs. Longbottom. Because I am not interested, and I would hate to turn Mr. Longbottom down." 

"Are you certain that you would turn him down if he asked?" 

Ginny nodded. "I am. We would not suit each other at all. He needs someone a little less . . . someone quieter than me and someone more patient than me. It would be to neither of our benefits for me to agree." 

"Just as I thought. Deep down inside, you are truly a kind-hearted person." 

"You do know you're embarrassing me." 

"Though one would not normally see that person given your penchant for eavesdropping and teasing your best friend." 

"But it is so fun to see you flustered, Hermione!" 

"Thank you," Hermione said. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that . . . compliment." 

"You're welcome." 

"Oh well. At least, it will only be you and me for the rest of the afternoon, as 'tis too late for anyone to visit now." She sighed. "Thank goodness for that small favor. I would go mad if anyone else dropped by." 

"In that case, I fear I must take my leave," said a male voice from by the door. Both Hermione and Ginny were startled at the sound. 

"Milord," Hermione said, hastily rising and dropping a curtsey. "I did not hear you enter." 

"The same goes for me, I fear," Ginny added. 

"Your butler waved me in, saying he thought that I needed no announcement," Lord Potter said. 

"Um . . . if I might be so bold to ask, how long were you standing there?" Ginny asked. 

"Not that long at all," he assured her. "The first thing I heard was you teasing Hermione on how much fun it is to fluster her." He grinned. "And I must say that I do agree with that sentiment." 

Hermione flushed. "That is exactly what I don't need," she complained. "Two people to tease me!" Both her friend and her fiancé laughed aloud at that. 

"If that is the case, then I will take my leave," Ginny said. "I am sure it is safe to leave the two of you alone." She gathered her skirts and fled the room. 

"That wasn't necessary," Hermione said, half to herself. 

"No, it was not, but I appreciate it all the same," Lord Potter said. He crossed the room and took the seat next to her. 

"I suppose . . ." Hermione looked down, feeling self-conscious to be so close to him. 

"And please forgive me for visiting so late. I merely did not want to—" 

"It is of no consequence," Hermione said. "And I know that you merely wanted to avoid all the other visitors. Frankly, if I could, I would as well." 

He laughed. "The secret to that, Hermione, is not being at home when they call." 

"Is that so? Perhaps I shall have to try that tomorrow." 

"Now you have me wishing that I never told you that. For how will I know where to find you then?" 

Hermione grinned. "Especially as even I do not know where I will go, if I do wind up going anywhere tomorrow." 

He sighed. "I suppose there is only one thing for me to do." 

"And what is that, sir?" 

Bringing his face down to meet hers, he kissed her. Hermione gasped, and he took advantage of it, snaking his tongue between her lips. She kissed him back, thoroughly absorbed by the way he smelled, by the way he tasted. He broke away from her, but this time, she fervently brought her lips to his mouth, not wanting the moment to end, truly enjoying the way her heart pounded in her chest . . . and how she could feel his heart match hers, beat for beat. His lips left hers, and he trailed soft kisses down the nape of her neck to her neckline. Then, before she knew what he was doing, he pulled down her dress, revealing her breasts and placed his mouth over her right nipple and kissed it. 

Hermione moaned in pleasure, using her hands to draw him closer in. He paused to pull her on to his lap, before returning to her breasts. She could feel herself getting wet, as he sucked at her right breast while fondling the other. She could feel him, growing harder and harder beneath her, and that made her even wetter. She wanted him, and she did not give a damn to any consequence. 

It was he who finally pulled away. "Enough," he said. "Enough. And I can't believe I agreed to a month's engagement. The next three weeks will be hard to get through." 

"Yes," she agreed breathlessly. 

He softly cupped her cheek in his hand. "Does that mean you're willing to elope?" 

"Elope?" she repeated dumbly. His words were making no sense to her. What she wanted to know was why he had stopped kissing her. 

"Yes, elope. As in get married tonight," he explained. 

"I . . ." she stammered, not knowing what to say. Throwing caution to the winds, she decided to stop speaking and do what she really wanted to do. She kissed him again. 

When they came up for air, several minutes later, Lord Potter was grinning. "Does that mean yes?" 

"Does what mean yes? And to what?" 

He took a deep breath. "Did you just agree to elope? As I am having trouble believing that." 

"Elope?" Hermione said. Finally, her common sense caught up with her. "We can't elope! What would everyone say?" 

He sighed. "I thought that was the case. Oh well. We'd best separate before I lose . . ." He removed her from his lap, got up, and walked around the table to sit across from her. 

"Why did you do that for?" she asked. "Did I do something wrong?" 

"No, my love, you did not. However . . . let me say that I am better able to restrain myself over here as opposed to right by you." 

"But what if I want you to sit by me?" she asked. 

He laughed. "Love, once we are married, I promise you I will never leave your side. But for now, please understand . . . how hard it is for me to be by you right now . . ." 

Hermione's eyes widened, as she realized what they had been doing. "I . . . I . . ." she stuttered. "I can't believe that we . . . that I—" 

He smiled at her. "I can." 

"Somehow you always make me so reckless!" 

"I seem to recall you telling me that before." 

"Yes, I did. But it was very reckless of us to go in to the Forbidden Forest by ourselves," Hermione said referring to the time when she and Harry had led a group of prefects into the Forbidden Forest to search for a pair of lost first years. 

"But Hermione, those first years were terrified when we found them. And we were Head Boy and Head Girl . . . and there were no professors to be found." 

"No reliable professors," Hermione corrected him. 

"Right, right. Trelawney is a lot of things, but she is not reliable." 

"No, she is not," she agreed. 

"Ron thought the same as well," Lord Potter said. 

"Ron?" Hermione repeated. Somehow she was reminded of something . . . and it was important. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Ginny!" 

"What about Ginny?" Lord Potter asked. "She left the room before we—" 

"But we used no silencing charm! And she has such a penchant for eavesdropping." Hermione searched frantically for her wand. 

"Here, let me," her fiancé said as he pulled out his. One gesture and a few words later, the charm was cast. "Next time, we will have to do that right away." 

"Yes, we will." Hermione sighed. "Especially as it seems that we seem to be lacking in any sort of privacy." 

"I am sorry," he said. "That is my fault. It is because of who I am." 

"Please do not think that I hold that against you," she said. "And you should not apologize. It is not your fault. It is everyone else's faults for being busybodies." 

"You are absolutely charming," he said. "I hope you never change." 

Hermione did not know quite what to say to that. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was inevitable that later that evening Ginny visited Hermione's room. Hermione was expecting it, but not looking forward to it. Usually, she enjoyed their evening conversations, but at times, Ginny pressed her too hard to admit that she was in love with her fiancé. For she was not. She cared for him and thought that he was adorable and charming and kind and . . . lots of other things, but that did not mean that she loved him. 

"Someone had fun earlier today," Ginny said by way of greeting as she entered Hermione' bedroom. 

"And that must be you as you look like a cat who has broken into the cream," Hermione said. 

"No, no, that you be you. And Lord Potter. Or are you on a first name basis now?" Ginny observed Hermione's blush. "I guess not. Surprising, considering that the two of you—" 

"Nothing happened," Hermione declared. 

"It did not sound as if nothing was happening." 

"Ginny! Must you intrude so much on my private life?" 

"I would give you some privacy if you told you were in love with him," she said. 

"I am desperately in love with Lord Potter," Hermione said. 

"I know," Ginny replied. "But you don't." She pouted. "I do wonder when you will come to your senses. After all, a few more kisses and you would have agreed to elope with him!" 

Hermione blushed. She seemed to be doing a lot of that today, and she cursed her propensity to color whenever she was the slightest bit embarrassed. "I . . . must admit it was pleasant being with him." 

"Why not be completely truthful?" 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning that you love him, but you're afraid that he doesn't love you . . . or at least I think that's why you are in such a state of denial, as if pretending that you are indifferent will help, though it's plain that you are not indifferent." 

"I am not indifferent to him," Hermione admitted. "It would be stupid for me to say that I do not care for him." 

"Then why do you try to act indifferently towards him?" 

"Since when have I done so?" 

Ginny paused. "Actually, you do not act indifferently when you are around him. But when you are not . . . you try so hard to seem as if you do not care how he feels." 

"Of course, I care how he feels," Hermione said. "I would hate for him to dislike me, or to think that I am inadequate or that—" 

"What if he told you that he was in love with another witch?" Ginny asked suddenly. 

Hermione's eyes widened as tears welled up in them. "He . . . he would not. That would make no sense . . . for then why would he ask me?" She brushed away the tears from her eyes. "So that is . . . that is . . ." She could not go on as a large lump had arisen in her throat. 

"Completely ridiculous, and I am sorry I even suggested it," Ginny said. "He does love you, and I wish you could see it. You have nothing to fear at all." She received no response to her words, however, as Hermione continued to mop away at her tears. "Oh Hermione! I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry." 

"I am not crying!" Hermione protested, even as her tears fell down her cheeks. "I only got something caught in my eye. I am not crying, and you did not upset me!" 

Ginny could only watch in silence as her best friend denied both her tears and her love. 

**Author's note:** No update during the week, once again. Oh well. The next chapter will be up by next Saturday -- maybe sooner if I can swing it. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a review to let me know what you thought of this one. 

Thanks goes out to **Mikeus**, **Candy**, **Izabel**, **Animagus-Steph**, **Cinderelly**, **Scarlet Emma**, **Kim**, **ears91**, **hungry-hamster**, **Bob**, **Arwen Undomiel**, **Brazilianfan**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Alicia**, **malu**, **fan**, **Hellion**, **Rachel A. Prongs**, **Anton Smirnov**, **Madeline**, **Yoshida Megumi**, **cricketlover**, **jagen**, **Mistress Desdemona**, **Pinku-koneko**, and **jenl821 **for their reviews of the last chapter. ^_^ I really enjoyed reading your reviews and comments. 


	4. Chapter Four : Schemes

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   
  
**Chapter Four : Schemes**   


"I still say that our day would be better spent shopping," Ginny said to Hermione as they walked side by side that next afternoon. "After all, if a witch cannot have too many gowns for her season, then that goes doubly for a witch who is about to be married. It is not too late for us to turn aside and visit the shops instead." 

"We can do that tomorrow. I have no doubt that between you and your mother, we will spend plenty of time shopping in Diagon Alley this week. I would much rather stick to our original plans and visit the Park for today," Hermione declared. The Park was Wizarding London's answer to Hyde Park in the Muggle world. Hermione was interested in seeing it as she had never visited it before and had heard many tales of how different it was from the more ordinary parks. 

Ginny sighed. "It is not that great. Surely you have been to Muggle parks before? The Park is like those, except there are magical plants and creatures." 

"And fireworks at dusk, I hear." 

"Yes, but who ever stays for those?" 

"I would think they would be quite lovely to see." 

"The first time, yes. But any wizard over the age of three has seen them too many times – at birthday parties, on New Year, or any special occasion – to really be awestruck at them." 

"I think that is sad," Hermione said, "that you are so used to seeing the beautiful things that magic can do around you, that you no longer can appreciate it." 

"That sounds almost romantic," Ginny noted. 

"I am sure that is not a compliment." 

"But it is, Hermione. I know you do not think highly of romantics – and don't bother telling me again how a romantic witch needs to get her head out of the clouds – but there is really nothing wrong with being one," she said. 

"Aside from the fact that witches in love with romance tend to be exceedingly silly?" Hermione asked. "You forget who my roommates were." 

"I remember, if only because . . . never mind. I am sure you do not want to hear the horrifying tale about what my brother thought—" 

"You can stop right there. You cannot fool me into thinking that your brother ever had a thought in his life." 

"I have to agree with you there," said Ginny. She sighed. "I do think a day spent shopping would be more interesting." 

"It is Sunday, and so we should spend it out in the sun," Hermione reasoned. "Or do you have something against strolling and seeing magical plants and animals in their natural habitat?" 

"Hermione, their natural habitat is not in the middle of London. My father says that the Park is a downright nuisance when it comes to animals escaping. The kneazles, he says, are especially bad, but at least they look enough like cats so at not to be too noticeable." 

"I would dearly love to see a kneazle. I have heard they are adorable." 

"What about Crookshanks?" 

"Hmm? Crookshanks? He would not get jealous if that . . . oh. That. Well, he is only part kneazle. I do not think that counts as seeing one," she said. 

"Especially given that your cat is ugly, while kneazles, as a rule, are not." 

"Ginny! Stop picking on my poor cat!" 

"I will as soon as he stops picking on me. He hates me." 

"He does not. You have never given him a fair chance." 

"Hermione, trust me. Your cat hates Weasleys. Ask Ron and he will say the same." 

"That brother of yours is worse than you when it comes to hating my darling cat." 

"Your cat would not be such a terror if you did not spoil him as much," said Ginny. 

"My cat would not ever be a terror if you never teased him or me." 

"Is that so?" Ginny asked, smirking. "We will never know whether or not that theory is true, as I doubt I will ever be able to give up teasing you." 

"Thank you." Hermione's voice dripped with sarcasm. 

"Do not mention it." Ginny sighed. "Here we are. The Park." 

Hermione glanced around to survey her surroundings. To her disappointment, everything looked normal. The sky was still the same blue, the trees still mundane and unmoving. "It does not look very magical," she said. 

"Of course," said Ginny. "While there are charms to keep Muggles out, 'tis better safe than sorry. So on the whole, it looks perfectly ordinary." 

"And how would one explain the fireworks then . . . ?" 

"If a Muggle should be here at dusk? That's what memory charms are for," replied Ginny. 

"Lovely. It does have one advantage, you must admit . . ." 

"And that is?" 

"It is less crowded here." 

"That is because it is boring!" Ginny whinged. 

"You really do hate things that are boring, do you not?" 

"You have just noticed? How out of character for you, Hermione." 

"Be nice." Hermione sighed wistfully. "So is it just a lie? All the tales of magical flora and fauna here?" 

"Define flora and fauna. The Wizarding world tends to mix the two," Ginny muttered. "Look over there." She pointed at a butterfly fluttering peacefully by a patch of snapdragons. 

"That is a pretty sight," Hermione said – then gasped. A blue snapdragon had unexpectedly opened up and swallowed the butterfly whole. "That's . . . that's not . . ." 

"That is a tiger snap, not a snapdragon. A lovely little flower with a taste for small insects. Oh, and do not wander too near it for it might decide it likes the taste of your curls." 

"Speaking from experience?" 

"Yes. The twins once thought it would be great fun to leave a pair of tiger snaps by my bed at night. When I woke, they had chewed through half my braids." 

"Oh dear." 

"It gets worse." 

"It does?" Hermione looked at her companion. "Your hair seems to have recovered, nonetheless." 

"Not that, Hermione. I meant this Park. I remember one day, when we came here after being bored to tears at Father's work, when we ran across a flock of Cornish pixies." 

Hermione winced. "At least Lockhart was not around to make things worse." 

"This was before I got my wand, Hermione." 

"Oh." 

"It was dreadful. Do you see why I did not want to come here? With all the bad memories I have of it? And yet, you insisted." Ginny shook her head sadly. "And that is not the worst of it." 

"There is more?" 

"Yes." 

"About the Park, right? Not about your hair?" 

"I believe we were well off the subject of my hair." 

"Have I ever told you that it is a lovely shade of—" 

"In any case," Ginny said loudly, drowning out the sound of Hermione's voice. "I had told you that not too many people come here, did I not?" 

"Yes." 

"That is true. Young couples can find better places to meet, and no one in their right mind would want to bring their children here. Old matrons, on the other hand, enjoy the silence and the scenery . . ." 

"Please do not tell me that . . ." 

"I cannot speak for all of them, but I do know that this is a favorite haunt of Mrs. Longbottom. With extra stress on haunt." 

"Ginny!" 

"Hardly polite, I know, but I am getting desperate." 

"Do you know where she tends to stay? If you do, we can avoid that area." 

"No, I do not. So on the whole, I would feel much better if we left straight away and headed in a northeasterly direction towards . . ." 

"Nice try, Ginny, but I do not want to spend the whole day shopping when I know that is what you and your mother have planned for tomorrow," said Hermione. "I will offer you a compromise though." 

"I am all ears," Ginny said mournfully. 

"Stop that. I know you are merely trying to get me to feel sorry for you." 

"Unfortunately, you have a heart of stone and so cannot feel for my predicament." 

"I do, I do. That is why I was saying that if you will help me find a kneazle, after that, we can head out towards Diagon Alley," Hermione said. "I would like to see one, if only to see how similar to Crookshanks they look." 

"I could tell you instead," Ginny offered. "Kneazles look like evil, overgrown cats. Crookshanks _is _an evil, overgrown cat. So you can see where he got his personality and his looks from." 

"I seem to recall you saying that kneazles are cute." 

"They are, but they are larger than cats and more evil as well." 

"Nice try." 

"Not really. If it were, we would be out of here by now." Ginny started. "Oh. Look who has just arrived." 

"Not Mrs. Longbottom, I hope. It cannot be, otherwise you would be fleeing by now." Hermione turned to look in the same direction as Ginny. She flushed when she saw her fiancé, strolling across the fields towards them. "Why is he here?" she asked under her breath. 

"To see you?" Ginny suggested. "Oh. I hope he does not—" 

"Miss Granger! Miss Weasley!" Lord Potter called out when he was a few yards away from them. "How splendid to see you both here." 

"—Call out like that," Ginny finished, hanging her head. "I would hope no one heard him, but I know that would be futile." 

"Lord Potter," Hermione said, greeting her fiancé. "We did not expect to see you here." 

"I came to call on you at your town house," he explained. "But Mrs. Weasley told me that the two of you had gone out together to the Park." 

"Yes," Hermione said. "I felt like I had to go out and get some sunshine today." 

"It is a lovely day," he agreed. "Is there something wrong, Miss Weasley?" he asked, noticing that she had been hanging her head quietly while he and Hermione spoke. 

"Nothing is wrong. I am merely awaiting my doom," she replied. She glared at them. 

"Doom?" 

"She is joking," said Hermione. "Are you not?" 

"No, I am most certainly not," said Ginny. "By the way, Lord Potter, just a bit earlier, I told Hermione that a kneazle resembles an evil, overgrown cat. Would you not agree with that description?" 

Lord Potter looked quietly between the girls. "I am not going to get involved with this," he said. 

"Coward." 

"Ginny!" 

"Well, he is," Ginny huffed. "As I am not sure if you know, I feel obliged to warn you that your fiancée is in possession of a particularly mischievous creature that will darken your days, who is called Crookshanks." 

"I know," he said, smiling. "I have met him once or twice while at Hogwarts. He did not seem that bad." 

"Thank you," Hermione said. 

"You only think that because you have never lived with him. Just you wait," Ginny retorted loudly. 

"Miss Weasley! So that is you!" cried out a grandmotherly voice to their right. 

"Oh no," Ginny muttered. "It cannot be . . ." 

Hermione sneaked a glance to see who had been speaking to Ginny. "It is. I am so very sorry." 

"I hate you both," Ginny declared. 

"Huh?" Lord Potter said, confused at the exchange. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley," said Mrs. Longbottom as she approached them. She stopped right in front of them. "And to you as well, Miss Granger, Lord Potter." She smiled. "And I do not believe I have offered my congratulations to you yet, Lord Potter." 

"Thank you," he said. 

"Miss Granger is a fine witch, and I am sure that she will do her duty by you." 

Lord Potter choked on a reply, while Hermione flushed. She hoped Mrs. Longbottom was not talking about what she thought the old witch was talking about. 

"Yes, indeed, by this time next year, I am certain that she will have presented you with your first heir." 

Hermione did not think it was possible, but she blushed even harder. 

"Though knowing your father, which I did, I would not be surprised if you got a head sta—" 

"The weather is lovely today," Lord Potter quickly interrupted the older witch. 

"Is it?" Mrs. Longbottom asked. "I do not pay much attention to the weather. When you are as old as me, you get tired of the same old conversation on the weather. But fear not. I got your hint all the same." She turned to Ginny. "If I knew you were coming here today, I would have brought Neville along as well. As it were, I sent him over to call at your town house." 

"Miss Granger had never been here, and I offered to show her the way," Ginny said. 

"You did? How kind of you. I have told Neville about your kind heart, but I must remember to stress that to him again." Mrs. Longbottom took Ginny's arm in hers. "I have a few friends of mine that I would like to introduce you to, Miss Weasley. They have known our family for ages, so it would be good for you to know them. You may come as well, Lord Potter and Miss Granger." She walked off, almost dragging Ginny along. The other two were left to trail in her wake. 

"You know Mr. Longbottom, do you not?" Hermione asked as they followed Mrs. Longbottom, so softly that only her fiancé could hear. 

"I do." 

"Do you think it might be possible that you could tell him how—" 

"Supremely uninterested Miss Weasley is in him?" he finished for her. 

"I was not going to put it like that." 

"But that was the gist of your request," he countered. 

She nodded her head. "I am afraid that is true." 

"That would be cruel of me to say to him. Mr. Longbottom is not known for his self-confidence." 

"I know." 

"Perhaps you can convince Miss Weasley that—" 

"A match with him would not be that bad? I have tried, but she thinks him boring. I do not want to see him get hurt." 

"Sometimes, Hermione, getting hurt is unavoidable." Lord Potter sighed. "And I do not think it would matter what I say to him. If Mrs. Longbottom presses him to ask for Miss Weasley's hand, you can be sure that eventually he will give in and do just that, no matter what the consequences." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione suppressed a groan as she followed Mrs. Weasley and Ginny into yet another shop. It was already Wednesday, and they had spent the better part of the last three days shopping for her. She had only been teasing when she mentioned spending all week shopping for gowns to Ginny on Sunday. Much to her chagrin, it was beginning to seem that the shopping would never end. 

Additionally, Hermione had been under the false impression that the Wizarding world did not require the sorts of awkward fittings for formal clothing that always ended with her being black and blue from pinpricks. That was only true to a certain degree; her old dress robes were all fitted by charms and not through painful needlework. However, the most fashionable and elegant clothing was still made by hand, although they took only hours to finish instead of the weeks and days required by Muggle seamstresses. Hermione's newest dress robes and gowns were still magical, but the magic was woven into them thread by thread in the form of various charms. So it was Hermione had spent the last couple of days instructed not to move no matter how much she needed to scratch her nose, and invariably she wound up with pinpricks. 

Worse than those fittings were the times when Mrs. Weasley would send Ginny off to look at bonnets or parasols. After Ginny had been properly disposed off, Mrs. Weasley would nod to the modiste, who would then pull out catalogues full of items purporting to be clothing. Hermione had trouble believing that anyone would pay the outrageous sums required to purchase such articles, especially as none of them left much to the imagination. 

Her mind had actually shut down whenever the discussion turned to what was the best combination of fertility spells and attraction charms to put on her lingerie. 

Hermione sighed. All too often, she felt lost. She had agreed to marry Harry Potter – not once, but twice – and she would not go back on her word. Indeed, she could have hardly asked for a better match, as he was kind and understanding. Hermione did not think he would be the sort of husband who would demand that she obey his every word. Yet there was a part of her that was not ready for marriage and what lurked beyond. She had only two weeks before her wedding, and she had not the slightest idea what would be expected of her by her husband. 

Turning her attention back to the present, Hermione observed that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were debating over the merits of a bright yellow silk. "If you ask me," she said, "I think I have more than enough gowns as it is." 

Mrs. Weasley merely smiled fondly at her. "Hermione, you are not thinking of your new position again." 

"But I am," she protested. "I cannot see Lord Potter getting upset about me wearing the same dress twice in one month." 

Mrs. Weasley sadly shook her head. "That was not the position I was referring to," she stated. 

"Then what was?" 

"Have you not considered, Hermione, that in about two weeks, you will not only be a married witch, but a countess as well?" 

Hermione's cheeks turned red. "I had forgotten about that," she admitted. 

"You should know better than most that as a countess, you will have a duty to entertain your neighbors, wizards and Muggles alike. It is especially important for you to appear respectable and upright in front of your Muggle compatriots, given the fact that there are not too many noble Wizarding families. And if you are going to be a proper hostess, you will need more than a few ball gowns and dress robes." 

"I know," Hermione said. She had forgotten about Lord Potter's earldom in the fuss of the last two weeks, because it was so rare for a wizard to be a noble as well. Almost all of the self-styled 'lords' in the Wizarding world were called so because they owned large parcels of land and not because they had actually been granted any particular title. This was due to the fact that most of the old Wizarding lines looked down upon titles granted by a Muggle King. The ancestors of the Potters had been one of the few exceptions. She sighed. It seemed that her fiancé was suited for her, as undoubtedly Hermione's mother had been ecstatic over the news that her daughter was marrying an honest-to-goodness earl. 

Mrs. Weasley turned back to the cloth she had been examining. "I believe you get my point?" 

"I do." 

"Good. So tell me, Hermione, what do you think of this particular color. I think it would suit you." 

"So do I," Ginny added. 

Hermione took a glance at the silk fabric that Mrs. Weasley was holding out for her review. "It is a pleasant color," she agreed. "But I am afraid that it is too light for me to wear." 

"Don't be silly, Hermione," Ginny said. "It would look perfect on you." 

"Perhaps," she said, "but I do not think that it would go very well with Lord Potter's eyes." Hermione blushed as soon as she finished that thought. 

"That is more like it," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "'Tis good to see that you are thinking of how you will appear next to him while shopping for clothing as well. I think this shade of pink may better suit your needs." 

"Oh no. Not more pink," Ginny said under her breath. 

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. 

"Nothing. I was simply noting that you adore the color pink." 

"Is that a subtle request for more pink in your wardrobe, dear?" 

"No, not at all." 

"If you like it, then take it, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling wickedly. 

"Thank you for offering, Hermione, but it is far too expensive." The look Ginny shot her was downright venomous. 

"Consider it a gift," Hermione said. 

"I cannot possibly accept such an expensive gift," Ginny replied. 

"Please. You need something to wear to my wedding anyway, do you not? And is it not traditional for the bride to provide the gowns for her bridesmaids?" 

"Yes, but think on it, Hermione. There are three layers of protection charms woven into the cloth. That makes it far too expensive to waste on the likes of me." 

"Whatever do you mean by that, young lady?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply. "Our family may not be the best off, but you should remember that—" 

"I know, Mother," Ginny said, hoping to stop her mother's lecture. 

"I was not finished yet," Mrs. Weasley said. 

"To get back to our original topic, I would very much like to give Ginny a gown made of this lovely pink fabric. I care not that it is made more expensive by reason of the charms it contains. Besides, it would be nice to have someone who can sympathize with all my wounds from past fittings," Hermione said. 

Mrs. Weasley beamed at her. "Ginny, thank Hermione for the dress." 

Ginny looked near apoplectic at the thought that she would have to wear a pink gown to the wedding. "Thank you, Hermione," she said grudgingly. Lowering her voice so only Hermione could hear her, she added, "I will get you back later." 

Checking to make sure that Mrs. Weasley was otherwise occupied, Hermione said, "And I will be happy to gift you with pink gowns for all your birthdays and Christmas too, if you keep up with your eavesdropping spells." Satisfied with herself, she walked over to where Mrs. Weasley and the shopkeeper were debating the merits of two pieces of cloth, which to Hermione's eye, seemed to be the exact same shade of violet. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione entered her room and gracelessly flopped down on to her bed. She was so tired. She, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had set to finishing the invitations for the wedding after their shopping expedition and dinner. Hermione had hoped they would be able to finish charming the invitations, particularly because Lord Potter had provided them with such a small guest list for his side, but that had not been the case. As it was, Hermione and the Weasleys would be spending tomorrow to finish the invitations, as they were running out of time to send them in a timely manner. 

Without bothering to knock, Ginny entered the bedroom and proceeded to sit down in a chair next to Hermione's bed. 

"It is proper manners to knock before entering a room," Hermione reminded her friend. 

"You are a wicked, wicked witch," Ginny replied. "I know I have impressed upon you before how much I detest the color pink." 

"I thought you had nothing against the color," Hermione said. "You merely do not like wearing it, if I remember correctly." 

"And what color is the gown that I am wearing to your wedding?" 

"A lovely, pastel pink," Hermione replied, a grin lighting up her face. That had been one of the best ideas she had in the longest time. "It serves you right, considering how you have been so nosy with your eavesdropping spells." 

Ginny tossed her head. "I would not bother with those spells if you used those privacy charms that you know so very well." 

"I should not have to resort to magic to get a spot of privacy when I speak with my fiancé," Hermione said. 

"You speak with him?" Ginny clasped her hands to her chest in mock-astonishment. "And here I thought the two of you snogged the time away whenever you were left alone." 

"Ginny!" 

"I am not in a very good mood at all, right now, thanks to that dress." 

"Welcome to the club," Hermione said. "Neither am I. I fear my arms will never be the same again." 

Ginny nodded sympathetically. "I know. Madam Malkin might be one of the better seamstresses when it comes to embedding charms, but it should be against the law for her to hold the needle." 

"Yes. I almost cried with relief when she handed the task of fitting me over to her assistant to see how your gown was coming along." 

"I fault you for that sentiment. I can and do find fault with you for ever offering to buy me that pink gown." 

"Oh Ginny! You cannot be too mad!" 

"And why not?" 

"Have you not ever heard that a bride cannot allow her bridesmaid to outshine her at her own wedding? So it was only to be expected for me to arrange for your dress to be pink." 

"Damn. That actually makes sense," Ginny said. 

"Doesn't it though?" 

"This does not mean that I have forgiven you." 

"That almost worries me." 

"There should be no almost about it," Ginny remarked. 

Hermione considered that. "True," she said. "You are probably already plotting some dastardly revenge." 

"Indeed." 

"I am grateful that the twins are out of reach." 

Ginny snorted. "Not for lack of trying on my part, I assure you." 

"I am also grateful that you will have no time tomorrow to do anything, seeing as we will spend all day finishing those dratted invitations." 

"I can think of worse things to call them," Ginny said. "Remind me how that guest list got so long again?" 

"Blame our mothers. Your mother kept adding more wizards to the list, while my mother added new Muggle guests to the list almost hourly for the last week." 

"Please tell me that they cannot add anyone else." 

"They cannot. There will not be enough room in the chapel for a mouse to be snuck in." 

"Especially not with Crookshanks around," Ginny said. 

"Yes, but that is a good thing, is it not?" 

"In this instance, it is." 

Hermione sighed. "And you cannot plot anything the day after for we will be entertaining Lord Potter at dinner." 

"Is that when he will present you with your wedding gown?" 

"Yes," said Hermione. "Though that is the exact opposite of Muggle traditions." 

"It is? How so?" Ginny asked. 

"Muggle tradition dictates that it is bad luck for the groom to even see the gown before the wedding." 

"That is a quaint tradition. I think the Wizarding world has the right of it." 

"Do you? I think it has all the trappings of disaster to have the groom be solely responsible for choosing the bride's wedding gown." 

"When you put it that way, I suppose it seems dangerous, especially if one's fiancé is not known for his tastes in clothing. But in such instances, I believe that the groom's mother would step in to direct his choice." 

"That does little to reassure me." 

Ginny laughed. "I ought to leave it like that, as revenge for your actions earlier." 

"That would be cruel." 

"Yes." 

"Hmm . . . so it would suit you perfectly." 

"Hermione!" 

"What?" 

"To show you how generous and forgiving I can be, I will ignore that comment for now. I was going to say that you have nothing to worry about. Lord Potter comes from an old Wizarding line, which means the gown he will give you will most likely be an heirloom of some sort." 

"That means about three hundred years out of fashion, does it not?" 

"Hermione! What has got into you this evening? You are acting most . . ." 

"I am tired, that is all." 

"If that is the case, I shall keep you from your sleep no longer." Ginny jumped up from her seat and walked to the door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, before going out to launch one parting shot. "If you are tired like this tomorrow, you will be impossible to work with." 

Hermione yawned. It had been fun, giving Ginny a taste of her own medicine.   


**Author's note:** That's it for this chapter. And it's even up earlier than I expected. ^_^ Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you could please review to let me know what you think. Also, thanks goes out to all my previous reviewers:   


**Rebeca:** Thanks for your review, as always. Your questions will be answered eventually, but this fic is l-o-n-g. It's almost as long as Charming already.   
**ears91:** You have no idea how much the two wanted to elope when I wrote that scene, but alas, I couldn't let them. Wouldn't fit into the plot and all that. But boy, were they snitty after that! ^_~ And you know you've been writing for too long when you think your characters are upset with you.   
**Animagus-Steph:** No, you haven't read anything like that before from me as I generally don't publish things like that. But I did use the R rating for a reason, and I'll have to tone down the fic in some parts. But I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Oh, and you'll see Harry's thoughts much later on. I did mention this is only part one, right? Part two is much, much different, but it's all the same fic.   
**abbeysroad:** Thank you! I do try to keep it true to the era, though that's difficult at times. Especially with Ginny as she likes to be a modern girl.   
**mikeus:** Hermione's been brought up to be polite, so she's not going to abandon her guests to hide out in the library, no matter how much she might be tempted. Besides, Ginny would kill her and who could blame her? As for Draco, he's in Italy right now. Because he's tired of his matchmaking French relatives. And I can tell you that all of part one is from Hermione's POV, as that's how the plot works. It'd be boring otherwise. I do promise that part two is different.   
**Nissy Padfoot:** Thank you! I'm glad you like it.   
**Candy:** Yes, Harry is in love. Too bad Hermione can't see it. And I'm so happy to hear you like the timing in that scene. ^__^   
**PoTtErSPaYnE:** Thanks! He is sweet, but it's strange to have to keep writing out his title. Hermione's formality is tiring at times, if only because I have to keep hitting backspace to keep her in character.   
**Mistress Desdemona:** Well, I wouldn't call it a heart-to-heart _conversation_ per se, if you know what I mean. But yes, Harry will eventually tell Hermione what he was planning.   
**Raven Potter Weasley:** I am so glad that I've already finished the first part, otherwise H/Hr would be clamoring for an elopement after your remarks. ^_^ I'm glad you like it, but I wouldn't expect an elopement. Hermione wouldn't do that to the Weasleys or her family. She loves them all too much.   
**Jabba1:** I like P&P myself as well. Favorite romance book in fact. And I'm happy to hear you like this fic.   
**Hermione2567: **Thanks!   



	5. Chapter Five : Realizations

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Five : Realizations**   


About halfway through Thursday afternoon, Hermione put the finishing touch on the last invitation to be sent out. "Finally, the invitations are done," she said. 

"Thank goodness," Ginny said. "I would have gone mad if I had to charm another invitation." 

"I know you girls probably think that I and Mrs. Granger invited too many people," said Mrs. Weasley. "But one day, when you are planning weddings for your own daughters, you will understand. You simply cannot leave anyone out, especially for a wedding of this importance." 

Hermione barely refrained from rolling her eyes. One thing she hated about the wedding talk was how everyone was treating her differently now, as if she was someone to look up to merely because she had managed to land the catch of the season. Hermione had no problems with people looking up to Lord Potter, for he had truly done a lot for the Wizarding world, or to herself, for her own accomplishments, but she did not think that she should be lauded for merely marrying a powerful wizard. 

"I know what you are thinking, Hermione, though you are behaving yourself," Mrs. Weasley said. "You are well-known in your own right for your own exploits in aiding the Order of the Phoenix." 

"Well-known perhaps, but not respected," Hermione pointed out. 

"No, you do not get nearly as much respect as you deserve for your accomplishments," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "If you did, you would have found a teaching position by now. I hate to admit it, but that is the way of the world. A witch's work is more likely to be overlooked. But this is not that bad, is it? Marrying your childhood sweetheart?" 

"Who said that he was my childhood sweetheart?" Hermione asked, turning a bright red. 

"I was under that impression . . . you have known each other since you were eleven." 

"Yes, but then I knew everyone else who entered Gryffindor the same year as we. That should not come as a surprise," Hermione said. 

"So you were not? I thought that you were, given that you were in the same House, the two of you were Head Girl and Head Boy . . . and how impatient you both seem to get married. As if you had been waiting long enough," Mrs. Weasley said. 

"That was more because we did not want to be in the public eye for any longer than possible," Hermione said. "I think we are both private people." 

"Hermione is not willing to admit yet how much she wants to marry Harry Potter," Ginny told her mother. "Though maybe she has admitted as much to him . . . given what does not go on when they are together." 

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. 

Mrs. Weasley looked long and hard at her daughter. "It will go very poorly for you if I catch you using another eavesdropping charm. That is not proper behavior for a young lady. Furthermore, I would think that your best friend and her fiancé deserve their privacy when they are here. Goodness knows they are unlikely to find it anywhere outside this house." 

"Yes, Mother," Ginny said contritely. 

"As we seemed to be finished with the invitations, why don't you two get ready to go out?" Mrs. Weasley suggested. "We could perhaps look for a gown for Hermione to wear for tomorrow." 

"I think I have plenty," said Hermione. "I can use one of the new ones we bought recently." 

"No, it would be nice for you to have something special to wear when Lord Potter comes tomorrow. He is presenting you with your wedding gown then, as well as signing the papers." 

"Have they arrived yet?" Hermione asked. 

"Yes, this morning, with your father's seal on them and everything." 

"I wish he could be here," Hermione said. "Though I suppose it is just as well." 

"They will make it to your wedding, dear. We made sure to arrange for a Muggle church for that," Mrs. Weasley said with a kind smile. 

"Thank you." 

"But hurry up you two! Go on and change into something else so we can head out to the dress shops again," Mrs. Weasley said, shooing them both upstairs towards their rooms. Hermione did not bother to protest, knowing that it would do her no good. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"I love your hair," Ginny proclaimed, as she put the finishing touches on Hermione's hair. Ginny had already arranged her friend's hair in an elegant chignon and was trying to pulls a few curls loose to drape across her neck. "You do not have to use any curling charms at all. It is all natural. 'Tis perfectly . . . enchanting." 

"Thank you," said Hermione. "But I think straight hair like yours is more manageable." 

"It all gets curled anyway so it does not matter. Now hold still . . . there! You look lovely." 

Hermione turned to examine herself in the mirror. She gasped. She could hardly believe the young lady in the mirror was herself. Her gown was a midnight blue satin covered by the sheerest organdy. Magic was woven in to the organdy so that it sparkled from the waist down, giving the appearance of stars against the nighttime sky. The gown's waist was a mere inch below her breasts, as was the fashion in the day, and accented by silver cord. Her sleeves were short and accented by silver trim, and she wore long, white gloves over her hands and up her arms. Hermione fidgeted for a moment or two, trying to pull up her gown to cover her assets better but gave up. She would simply have to remember not to breathe as deeply as she would normally or otherwise, she would risk falling out of the bodice. The corset was not helping matters in that department. Underneath her gown, Hermione wore two layers of petticoats, the hems of which barely peeked out from under her skirt above her satin shoes. A lace shawl that was a mere touch lighter than the deep blue of her gown completed her ensemble. 

Ginny, on the other hand, opted for the always fashionable white. Her gown was a fine muslin, with white on white embroidery around the hem. The only color in the dress came in at the sleeves and on the laces. Her shawl perfectly matched the yellow trim on her sleeves. Ginny's dress was more modest than Hermione, and she looked like a such proper young lady. 

"Well, what do you think?" 

"I think this gown is gorgeous," Hermione said. "It does make me look good, doesn't it?" 

"I would go further than that, but I do not want you to get a swollen ego." 

"And I would say that you look like a prim and proper young lady, except I know that is not who you really are." 

"That makes me glad that I did not compliment you." 

"Oh Ginny. You know I think that gown suits you." 

"I know," her friend replied. "It is almost unfortunate that you and I are not attending a ball tonight for we would be sure to turn heads. Though you should not endeavor to do so, with you practically being an old married lady and all." 

Hermione glared at her friend. If she could, she would have tickled her then, but she did not want to risk damaging her hair – which had taken over an hour to arrange – or her dress. "If you like," she said, "perhaps we can arrange for you to go out this evening. I am certain that we can convince one of your older brothers to escort you. I will just tell them that you do not want to admit it, but the fact that you have not seen Mr. Longbottom in awhile has led—" 

"You can stop right there," Ginny said. "Bad enough that I have to deal with his grandmother who is either very stupid or very stubborn—" 

"Stubborn though that is like you as well," Hermione interjected. 

"—But for you to tease me about it! It is . . . it is . . ." 

"Insufferable, I know," she said with a smile. "Yet we are friends, and so you must forgive me." 

"I am not convinced of that." Ginny crossed her arms and pretended to be upset, but to no avail. Hermione merely broke out into laughter. Finally, she gave up the act and joined Hermione in laughing at herself. "Fine, fine. Teasing is fine, but if you ever—" 

"Ginny, after our last encounter with Mrs. Longbottom, you can trust me when I say that I never want to have to speak with her at length again." Hermione shuddered. "There is no topic that is taboo for her, is there?" 

"No, there is not." 

"But enough! Shall we go downstairs? I believe your family is waiting for us in the sitting room." Together the two witches climbed down the narrow stairs of the town house, taking care lift their dresses as they went down so as not to tread on them. Once at the sitting room, Ginny knocked once on the door to let everyone know they were coming in, before opening it. There was a rustle of silk and linen, a familiar sound indicating that the male inhabitants had risen from their seats. Hermione nodded to Mr. Weasley and Ginny's two older brothers who were present, only to be taken aback to see that Lord Potter had already arrived. She blushed, realizing that he must have arrived while Ginny was putting the finishing touches on her hair. She hadn't known that it was taking that long. 

Curtseying gracefully, she said, "Good evening, milord. I am sorry for being late . . ." 

"No need for that," he said, "as it is I who am early." 

Hermione and Ginny greeted the rest of the room's occupants before taking their seats, Hermione's a shade too near her fiancé's for her comfort. It was awkward, trying to hold a conversation when he was constantly staring at her. She did not know who she should pay more attention to, him or Mrs. Weasley, whom she was currently speaking with. Finding that she could not concentrate on what was being said, she gathered her courage to speak with him. It was silly really for her to feel so nervous around him. She had never felt this awkward or self-conscious around him before, not even back in Hogwarts when they had to plan Prefect meetings together, under the direction of Professor McGonagall. 

Taking in a deep breath, she looked up at him. Somehow, Hermione could not help but appreciate how well the fashions of the day suited him. Lord Potter looked stunning in black, the color matching his dark hair and bringing out the emerald depths of his eyes. His neckcloth was tied elegantly, giving the impressions of a waterfall and highlighting the planes of his face. The tight cut of his coat tail hugged his shoulders, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. This was not to say that he was very built or imposing as some gentlemen were, as he was more lean and angular, but there was a beauty to him that few could deny. 

A sharp elbow in her ribs distracted Hermione from her contemplation of Lord Potter. Turning to see who had done it, she was Ginny winking at her. Hermione blushed furiously, realizing that she had been staring at him as he had been staring at her. How embarrassing. She would have never thought herself capable of being entertained by the mere sight of a man. 

Yet, everyone was getting up, and Hermione figured out that someone – she did not know who – had suggested that they all go to dinner. Lord Potter offered his arm to her, which she took, and they followed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley out of the room, with the Weasley siblings walking behind them. 

"You look lovely tonight," he said, his voice deep with emotion. 

"Thank you." She looked down, not wanting to get caught up in staring at him again. "You look very handsome as well, milord." Her cheeks burned, and she could hardly credit that she had said something like that. 

"Thank you," he responded mildly. 

Once in the dining room, he escorted her to her seat, before going to his, which was directly across from hers. If Hermione thought sitting in the sitting room had been uncomfortable, this was a hundred times worse. All throughout dinner, she could sense his eyes on her. She did not dare look up for she knew she would be tempted to never look away from him. Hermione fancied that she could feel his gaze moving all around her, taking in all of her features. It lingered particularly on her chest, and Hermione grew hot once again – but this time, it was not because she was shy or embarrassed. While earlier she had tried to pull her dress up, Hermione longed desperately to pull it down, to see his reaction, to gauge whether or not she could tempt him into placing his wet, hot lips over them once again. She wriggled in her seat, as she could feel herself getting wet again just thinking about his kisses. She hardly ate a bite during the whole dinner, distracted by her thoughts of what she wished he would do to her. 

Again, it took an elbow jab from Ginny to attract her attention. Her friend was standing up, and nodding towards the door, as Mr. Weasley was offering the males in the room the chance to have a good smoke in his study. She cast one glance at Lord Potter's back as he joined the other gentlemen in leaving the room, before following the Weasley women back towards the sitting room. 

Once they had been seated again, Mrs. Weasley produced a pack of cards, and they started to play Exploding Snap. Hermione's mind was not on the game at all, and she soon gave up. That ended the game for a bit, until Bill and Charlie returned to the sitting room. Mrs. Weasley implored them to play, though both gentlemen protested they were out of practice, and soon another hand was dealt. Hermione sat this one out, content to sit in an armchair and think of Lord Potter. 

Hermione did not know how much time had passed when Mr. Weasley entered the room. "Hermione," he said, "could you go to my study? I believe Lord Potter has something that he wants to present to you." 

Eagerly she got up and made her way to Mr. Weasley's study, her heart light and joyful. It was silly how happy she was to see him and how much she was acting like a schoolgirl in love. 

That was when it hit her. 

She was in love. 

That thought stopped her dead in her tracks. 

Hermione was in love with the man who stared at her for hours on end and never tired of it. She loved the man who had sought her out and danced three straight sets with her, never surrendering her hand. She loved the man who she knew at Hogwarts, who was always kind and encouraging towards her, who brought out the best in her. He gave her courage to do things she would not have otherwise dared, and being with him made her feel safe. She loved the boy she once knew and the man she was beginning to know who shared that smile, which never failed to take her breath away. 

Her heart trembling in her chest, Hermione continued to walk to the study. She had been so stupid. Ginny had been right. She did love him. It was terrible how much she felt for him . . . and how much she longed to know that her feelings were returned. She didn't dare hope for that, as a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that he had some other reason for asking for her hand in marriage. She did not know what that could be, but she knew – she just knew that he could not possibly feel half as much as she. 

It took all of Hermione's courage to open the door of the study and face the man she loved. Part of her wanted to flee, while the rest of her wanted to leap into his arms and never, never leave. 

His face lit up when he saw her. 

Hermione stopped, clutching her hand to her chest. She loved that smile of his. She did not see it often enough. It so suited him, and when he smiled, he could have lit up all of London with its brilliance. 

"Is something wrong?" he asked, approaching her. 

"I love your smile," she whispered. She reached out one hand to trace it. He grasped it and pulled it away from his mouth. 

"Then I shall have to endeavor to smile more often," he said. He would have said more, but that was when she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Hermione could feel his shock and kissed him harder, willing that to melt away. It did and he kissed her back – but then he abruptly pulled away. 

"No," he said half to himself. "Not here. Not tonight." 

Hermione's heart broke. She shouldn't have done that. It only offended him, and she wouldn't be surprised if he walked out the door right— 

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked, his voice full of concern. 

"Nothing," she said. "I am sorry for offending you." 

"Oh Hermione," he said. He took two steps towards her and swept her up into his embrace. "Offend me? For kissing me? You could not be more wrong. But I am afraid that I had to end it . . . I fear I cannot be as honorable as I would like with you." 

Hermione had no time to ponder the meaning of his words, as he had turned back to the desk, where a large, white box sat. "I have something for you," he announced. "I do hope you like it." She walked towards the box, knowing that it held her wedding gown and curious as to how it would look. The box was seamless, without any apparent ways to open it. "Your ring is the key for it," he told her. 

Hermione touched her engagement ring to the center of the box. At that, the top half unraveled, revealing a stunning wedding gown. The skirt was made of layers and layers of white tulle, while the bodice was fashioned of silk, with countless tiny pearls sewn into it. "It is beautiful," she said. 

"I had always thought so," Lord Potter said. "But now, looking at it and you at the same time . . . it makes me wonder if it is pretty enough for you to wear." 

"I think it is," Hermione declared. "I think it is perfect." 

"I am glad to hear that." He strode over to the desk. "I thought you might would like to see this too." He tapped a long scroll of parchment to the side of the box. 

"Oh," Hermione said. That was not the most intelligent thing a witch could have said when given the chance to read her settlement. "I . . . I do not need to read it," she said. 

"No, but I thought you might like to. So you know that I will provide for you and care for you . . . you will have complete control of your dowry and—" 

"I do not need to read anything to tell me that," she said. "Somehow I have always felt safest around you." To her surprise, he flushed at her words. 

"Thank you," he said huskily. "If you do not wish to read it, then shall we return to the other room? I am sure that the Weasleys would like to see the gown." 

Nodding her acquiescence, she lifted up the box, and he promptly took it from her. Walking side by side, they exited the study. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione tossed and turned in her sleep that night. Whoever had said ignorance was bliss had been so damn right. Ignorance was bliss. Before she had known that she loved Harry Potter, her life was tolerable. She was unsure about his reasons for marrying her, she did not know if she was ready for marriage, and the preparations were exhausting her . . . but that wasn't as bad as this. For now, Hermione wondered and worried about how he felt for her and whether he even liked her. That was a dreadful thing to contemplate. Before she would have been content to have a comfortable marriage, with both parties content with having the other. Now she knew she did not want that. She wanted him to love her as she loved him. She wanted his heart to leap up in his chest whenever he saw her just as hers did. She did not want him to kiss her out of mere physical attraction, but out of a passion that he could not deny instead. She longed for him and what was more, she longed for him to long for her. 

It was all very ridiculous, but that did not make it any less real. 

Then there were his words to her earlier this evening. He had said that he could not be as honorable with her as he would like. What did that mean? Was he already planning his first tryst of their marriage? Had he only asked her to conceal some other relationship that he did not want brought to life? Was perhaps Miss Chang's bitter tirade against him some complicated masquerade? Hermione knew all these theories of hers were full of holes, but that did not help her to discredit them. 

Most of all, Hermione wondered if there would come a time when she was brave enough to ask him why he asked to marry her. She wanted to know that more than almost anything else in the world. The only thing she wanted more was for him to love her. But she was afraid of what response he might give, and so she did not know if she would be able to voice those words ever.   
  


**Author's note:** The next chapter will be up on Saturday once again. I think I'll be cutting part one into eight chapters, so that means this one is over half over. I hope everyone liked this chapter. Thanks to **Jabba1**, **abbeysroad**, **Candy**, **danielerin**, **Sellser**, **Raven Potter Weasley**, **ears91**, **Jade121**, **malu**, **Nissy Padfoot**, **alyssa-farrell**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Pinku-koneko**, **Animagus-Steph**, **Hermione2567**, **Noriko M. Chiniju**, **cricketlover**, **Alicia**, **Rachel A. Prongs**, **Rita Skeeter**, **Athipsou**, **Leah6**, and **sweetheart87 **for reviewing the last chapter. ^_^ It was interesting to see what you had to say, good and bad. 


	6. Chapter Six : Longings

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Six : Longings**   


Hermione sighed to herself as she watched the couples dance at the Patils' ball. It was Monday evening, only three days since she had realized that she loved Lord Potter during that fateful dinner. He had yet to put in an appearance, despite knowing that she would be there. Hermione hated to admit it, but that made her fret all the more. Perhaps he really was seeing someone else and had only asked her to hide that fact from the public. 

"You look incredibly bored," a voice said to the right of her. She spun around to see her fiancé grinning at her. 

"I missed you," she heard herself say to her astonishment. 

"Did you?" He gently took her hand into his. "Forgive my tardiness. I had meant to come earlier, but I am afraid I got tied up with a bit of business." 

Hermione bit her lip, worrying what sort of business he was talking about. He noticed it and squeezed her hand in reassurance. "It's nothing for you to worry about," he said softly. 

That did nothing to allay her fears. She wondered why he did not want her to think about it. It could not be for anything good. 

"Lord Potter! Miss Granger! How utterly charming it is to see you!" called out the voice of their hostess, Lavender Gray, nee Brown. Gesturing to the witch on her right, she continued, "I am sure you both recall Miss Parvati Patil." 

Hermione nodded frigidly at both her former roommates. She had never fit in with either of them and could not think of any benign reason for them to drop by. 

"Lord Potter, Miss Granger, congratulations," Miss Patil said, looking directly at Lord Potter. "I was most surprised to hear of your engagement." From the way she was looking her fiancé, Hermione surmised that Miss Patil would not be aversed to any solicitation by him. Unfortunately, his eyes lingered on the exotic and beautiful Miss Patil too long for her comfort. 

"I must leave," she said, spinning on her heel and trying to locate Ginny. There were times when she hated being so short. This was one of them. 

"Is something wrong, Hermione?" Lord Potter asked. 

"If there is, it is of no consequence, is it?" she replied bitterly. She did not want to be in their company for another moment so she bravely set off into the crowd, determined to find her friend. Hermione knew it was rude of her, but she was past the point of caring. After all, wasn't it far more rude for a witch to make eyes at another witch's fiancé? 

A male hand grabbed her by the arm. "Hermione? Whatever is the matter with you?" 

"It is nothing for you to worry about," she said, consciously mimicking his words from their past conversation. 

"If it concerns you, then of course it is something for me to worry about," he said. "What is wrong? Won't you please tell me?" 

"I have a headache," she said. That was not a lie. She did have a headache, thinking of all the witches that he could possibly be in love with instead of her. And to see him so blatantly flirt with another witch before her very own eyes. It was enough to make her palm itch with the urge to slap him. 

Lord Potter looked doubtfully at her. "A headache?" 

"Yes. Did I not tell you once how I was prone to them in the presence of my roommates at Hogwarts?" 

"Yes, you did once, when you were a bit under the weather at a Prefects' meeting . . ." 

"I thought so. If you will excuse me, I must find Ginny," she said. 

"Let me help you." 

"That will not be necessary." 

"I know it is not necessary, but I want to d so all the same." 

"I cannot stop you from doing so." She tossed her head, determined not to break down in front of everyone and especially not in front of him. "But let me remind you, milord, that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." 

"You have done so before." The look he gave her was inscrutable. "I know you are an eminently capable witch, but I would think . . . I would hope that you would trust me enough to depend on me." 

Damn him. He always knew how to get to her. Hermione willed her tears away, promising that she would release them later. "Yes, milord," she said quietly, not trusting her voice to not betray her. 

Happily, Ginny was spotted by Lord Potter soon after that, his height giving him the advantage over Hermione. He took her arm and guided her towards where he saw Ginny standing against the wall. 

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Ginny asked when she saw them approaching her. 

"I am afraid I have a headache," Hermione said. "Do you know where your brothers are? As I would like to go home, if at all possible." 

"Let me find them. It shan't take that long." Ginny began to dash away, but stopped. "If I might trouble you, could you take Miss Granger to our carriage, Lord Potter?" she asked. 

"It is no trouble. I would be happy to do so," he replied. 

"Thank you." Ginny set off and was soon lost in the crowd. Lord Potter took Hermione's arm and gently led her outside, where he asked that the Weasley carriage be brought out. As they waited for it to arrive, he continued to look at her, his face unreadable. 

Finally, Hermione could bear it no longer. "What? Do I have a spot on my face or something?" she asked. 

"Huh?" 

"You keep staring at me, milord. It makes me wonder if there is something wrong with my face or something more dreadful." 

"No, not at all. That could not be farther from the truth," he said. He paused, as if not quite sure to say next. "I am sorry that you are not feeling well tonight." 

"It is not your fault," she replied. 

"My life has been such that I always worry that it is my fault." 

Again, he knew what to say to make her heart melt. She longed to embrace him, to tell him that he should not think that way, that it wasn't his fault. In a way, that would be true. It was not his fault that she was not beautiful enough to attract his attention. It was not his fault that his eyes naturally lingered on witches far more pleasant to gaze at than she. The fault was all her own, but she could not admit it. 

"It is not your fault," she finally said. "So please do not worry about it." 

Ginny and her brothers arrived then, before he could make any reply. Bill Weasley thanked him for his time and told him that he could leave if he wanted for they had it under control. Lord Potter merely replied that he thought he would return to his town house as well and had asked that his carriage be brought around too. It took another, tortuous thirty minutes before their carriage finally appeared. 

For Hermione, it was not a moment too soon. She did not know how much longer she could hold back her tears. 

Later that evening, after she had changed out of her formal dress robes and had herself a good cry, Hermione heard a knock on her door as she sat at the edge of her bed. She knew it had to be Ginny. 

"Come in," she said. 

Ginny opened the door and closed it behind her. She walked into the room, stopping in front of Hermione. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked. 

"I am." 

"I am glad to hear that. May I sit down?" 

Hermione moved over to make room for Ginny. "Go ahead," she said patting the space beside her. 

"Thanks." 

Ginny sat down and was silent. Hermione wondered why, as Ginny usually had trouble keeping quiet. One could call that a Weasley trait. Hermione knew that Ginny must have something on her mind, but she didn't know why Ginny wasn't speaking of it. 

Finally, Ginny gave a soft sigh and leaned forwards, kicking her feet ahead of her. "Would you like to tell me what happened at the ball?" she asked. 

"I already told you. I got a headache." 

"I find that hard to believe." 

"It is the truth." 

"Fine. So what cause the headache?" 

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want to say what had. She knew that Ginny would think her silly for worrying the way she did . . . and she did not need to hear that right now. "I . . . it does not matter." 

"Of course it does. You worried us all back there. Did you even look at your fiancé? The poor man was beside himself, worrying about you." She paused, looking to see if her words had any effect. "Hermione, we have been friends for how long? Six years? You know I may sometimes be a bit nosy, but I have not and never will be a gossip. I won't tell anyone if that is what you wish." 

Hermione said nothing. She stared at her hands, trying not to notice the rather large adornment on her left one. 

"Besides, would it not feel good for you to get it off your chest?" Ginny asked. 

"You'll think it dreadfully silly." 

"I might. I will not lie to you there. You are a sensible witch most of the time, but sometimes you are silly. But I can promise you that if I do think it silly, I will tell you why." 

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" 

"Yes, actually. As you will have reasons to know why what you thought was wrong." 

"Fine then." Hermione took a deep breath. "I think this marriage is a farce. I think that the only reason why Lord Potter ever asked me was to conceal his . . . his . . . to cover up his feelings for Miss Chang or Miss Parvati Patil." 

"Dear Merlin! That is silly." 

"I told you you'd think so." 

"That is so silly that I almost do not know where to start," Ginny said. "I cannot tell you any specifics, but Lord Potter is not nursing any tender feelings towards Miss Chang. He might wish her well in life, but that is it. And as for Miss Patil . . . do I even have to explain this one?" 

"I see nothing silly about it. She is beautiful and exotic . . . a dark-haired witch like Miss Chang, so it makes sense." She paused, trembling, a horrible thought having just arrived. "Oh no." 

"What?" 

"I have a horrid thought." 

"Well, go on and share it then." 

"You know the sort of life Lord Potter has led . . . with everyone he had ever loved dying at the hand of You-Know-Who or his Death Eaters?" 

"Yes, I think everyone does." 

"I think this is a farce." 

"You've already said that." 

"I think he wants to throw people off the identity of who he really loves. That way she won't get hurt. So he proposes to me, as he knows that I'm the witch best able to protect herself just in case, but he doesn't want to let me know why. Because he's too kind-hearted to come out and say that he is using me to protect the love of his life—" 

"Stop right there. I think I have heard enough." Ginny kneaded her temples. "I think I am getting a headache now." 

"Sorry." 

"Let us take this theory apart, step by step, shall we?" 

"I would like to see you try to dismantle it." 

"First, one of the things you said was that Lord Potter was too kind-hearted to say that he was using you, correct?" 

"Yes, because he is." 

"Think about it. Either he is using you and is not a kind person at all, or he is not using you because he is too kind to do that. Does that not make more sense?" 

"Well . . ." 

"Second of all, when has Lord Potter ever thrown anyone else into danger?" Ginny asked. 

"I . . . can't recall him doing so." 

"So why would he start now?" 

"I told you to protect the—" 

"Supposing that he does love another witch, he would not have to go out of his way to find some witch to marry. He could just traipse around Europe and never come back until she was safely married to someone else." 

"I suppose that makes sense," Hermione said. "But Ginny! If you saw what I saw this night . . ." 

"What was that?" 

"It was when Mrs. Gray came over to greet us . . . his eyes lingered on Miss Patil . . ." Ginny said nothing, and Hermione bravely forged on, trying to explain how she knew that he wasn't in love with her.. "Oh, perhaps you do not remember this, but at Hogwarts when he fancied Miss Chang, he was always staring at her. That was how the whole school knew that he liked her. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her." 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Only those who cared enough to look, but you shan't tell her that," she said to herself. "Was he speaking with her?" 

"Yes, she was saying something. I can't remember what." 

"Are you aware that it is customary to look at the person that you are speaking with?" 

"I know but—" 

"But nothing, Hermione!" Ginny jumped up and began pacing. "Maybe this will work. You looked a little unhappy when we arrived. Had he done anything to upset you?" 

"Yes!" 

"What was it?" 

"He kept staring at me. I finally asked him if there was something wrong with my face." 

"Yet you persist in thinking that he fancies Miss Patil because he looked at her while they were conversing? Oh Hermione!" Ginny knelt down in front of her and took Hermione's hands into her own. Looking straight into Hermione's eyes, she continued, "You must be blind. It is clear to everyone else. Whenever the two of you are together, he looks at you and only you. Why do you think some of the witches have been so jealous? Bad enough that you are getting married to him, but it is even worse that it's actually a love match. It's the stuff of every witch's dream, and yet you don't believe it." 

"It is not a love match," Hermione said. "I do not know what it is, but it is not that." 

"Oh, but it is. You're just being stubborn now." 

"I am not. No matter what feelings I may have for him, that doesn't change the fact that he—" 

"Do you still think that he likes Miss Patil? Because I remember he and Ron going on about how they couldn't stand your roommates your last year at Hogwarts. And you said it yourself. He can't stop looking at you, and he has a habit of staring at those he fancies." 

"What you say makes sense and I can almost believe it—" 

"But you still have your doubts," Ginny said, sighing. "And there is only one way to put those fears of yours to rest." 

"To ask him why," Hermione said. 

"Yes." 

"What if—" 

"If he does not love you and all your worst fears are confirmed . . . I do not know what . . . actually, here is what you do. Tell me so I can hex him to hell and back. Then I'll tell the twins and let them wreak their vengeance on him. They think of you like a younger sister, you know." 

"I know. They never hesitated to play a prank on me," Hermione said. "I meant what should I do about the wedding if—" 

"I could say that plenty of other witches have married without love, that plenty of couples have grown to love each other, but I will not. We will cross that bridge if and when we come to it, Hermione." 

"We?" 

"Of course, we. You do not think I'll let you cry yourself to sleep every night out of a broken heart, do you?" Ginny winked at her. "Though you ought to thank me for giving you some time to finish crying." 

"You are absolutely impossible!" 

"With my family, isn't it easy to see why?" 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other in surprise when they heard the tap on the door the next day. They had left instructions with the butler to tell all potential visitors that they were not in. Hermione had not wanted to face them, and Ginny could not blame her for Wizarding society could sometimes resemble a pack of vultures, ready to converge on the latest bit of gossip. 

Biting her lip and thinking that she would have to have a word with their butler later, Hermione said, "Come in." 

The door opened to reveal Lord Potter. He looked worriedly at Hermione as he walked in. "Good afternoon, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley. Are you both well?" 

"Yes, very," said Ginny. 

"Are you feeling better from last night?" he asked Hermione directly. 

"Yes. My headache is gone." She gestured beside her. "Please, will you not have a seat?" 

"Yes, thank you." He nervously sat down across from the two witches. "So you are certain that you are feeling better?" 

"Yes, much. Tea?" 

"Please." He rubbed his hands together and looked like a nervous wreck. "I know I might be a bother, the way I keep asking about it but if you are still not feeling well at all . . . if you feel the slightest bit ill . . . I was going to say that we could cancel dinner at my place tomorrow night. That is, if you want to." 

"I am fine. You need not worry about that." Hermione handed him a cup of tea, which he promptly put down. He continued to stare at her, as though he expected her to snap on him or fall apart. 

Hermione knew it was her fault that he looked so worried. She had been testy last night and for reasons that seemed silly now. She got up and walked around the table to sit down next to him. Taking his left hand into her right one, she said, "I am sorry about last night for being so snappish. I was . . . well, I was not feeling well, and I am afraid I didn't act very maturely. So please accept my apologies . . . and if you do not wish to have us over for dinner tomorrow night, then I can—" 

"No, no. I would love to have all of you over," he said. "I thought you might like to see everything in the house you will be living in .. . well, one of the houses at least." 

Silently, Ginny got up and left the room. Hermione knew what Ginny was expecting her to do, but she did not want to do so right now. She felt comfortable and warm, just sitting there holding his hand. She did not want this moment to end so soon. 

"I would like that very much," she said. She intertwined her fingers with his. "This is fine, is it not?" 

"Indeed." He pulled his hand away from hers and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him and holding her small hands with his right hand. "But this is better." 

"Yes. It is."   


**Author's note:** I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter. I'd appreciate it very much if you could leave me a review to let me know what you think. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. 

**Rachel A. Prongs:** *blinks* I see from two from you, and I hope they're from the same person. And yes, he could have just found some place more private for them to be or cast a spell to insure it, if he didn't care for her. But she's not thinking straight right now.   
**Rebeca:** I'm so sorry to hear about that. *hugs*   
**Lockwood:** Thanks! Am glad you think it's romantic as this is strictly a romance. Would be bad if you didn't think so. ^_^   
**Nissy Padfoot:** Actually, people seem to either really like or really hate this Ginny. I've not heard any middle ground types of comments yet.   
**lee74:** Glad to hear that the description worked for you.   
**ears91:** Yes, she took it the wrong way and he'll probably have to spell it out for her as she's not listening to Ginny right now either.   
**Lynn Joe:** Harry knows more about Hermione than you think, but as for the other way around -- well, Hermione was always caught up with being a very proper lady, partly because of her background.   
**Mistress Desdemona:** After this chapter, there are only two more for part one. How many problems can I write about in so short a space? ^_~   
**Jade:** Cho wouldn't do that as she has nothing against Hermione, just Harry. And it's too late, she's already thinking of worst case scenarios.   
**Noriko M. Chijinu:** Thanks and I hope you like this chapter.   
**bamaslamma29:** It wouldn't be very proper for them to be unchaperoned for great periods of time, so that really does put a damper on conversation. And they've already more than most couples have for their time period.   
**Ori:** Thank you!   
**sweetheart87:** Yes, amazing it's taken her this long for such a bright witch, isn't it?   
**Rita Skeeter:** I think you'll know the reasons about four or five chapters from now. I'm not sure how I'm going to break them up.   
**danielerin:** Thanks for the compliments. And Hermione right now is not only thinking the worst of herself (and Harry if you ask me), but is being exceedingly silly about not asking him.   
**Ali:** Thanks.   
**malu:** He is very smitten. Too bad she can't see that.   
**PoTtErSPaYnE:** Am glad you think so. ^_^   
**mutsumi:** The D/G will take a while as Draco is taking his sweet time getting back to England. If he doesn't hurry up, Ginny'll lose her heart to another.   
**Dorothy:** I could post more frequently with this one, as I've quite a bit written, but every time I tried, something else came up. So I've given up on that idea and am settling for weekly updates.   
**Lil-frankie14: **I hope you like this chapter too.   
**Sheilalein:** What exactly confused you about the first part? And while Regency gowns were more comfortable than say the gowns of the Victorian era, I can't imagine that they were easy to get into or out of.   
**Raven Potter Weasley:** I shan't speak to Ginny and Neville, but I've not decided what to do with Ron yet. I'm not sure if he's really ready for marriage when he gets introduce into this fic.   
**Alicia:** Hermione knows about that, but she's not thinking straight. Falling in love isn't the most sensible thing she's ever done. And she's even less sensible after she realizes it, but I think this chapter makes that clear.   
**Pinku-koneko:** Yeah, she's being clueless, but then, it's kind of hard for her to believe that he loves her without knowing her that well.   
**HARMONY: **Thank you.   
**SquorpionLady:** This fic is in the Regency era, and there's a note in the second chapter explaining about that. I hope this helps.   
**Bladefanatic:** She should be able to figure out why Harry asked to marry her shortly, though I think it's obvious already. 

Thanks once again and the next chapter ought to be up next Saturday.   



	7. Chapter Seven : Dreams

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Seven : Dreams**   


If it were not for Hogwarts, Lord Potter's town house would have been the largest house that Hermione had ever seen. Though it was not completely fair to compare it with Hogwarts as it was a castle and meant to house hundreds of students. Yet, it was the only place Hermione could think of that was larger than the house they were currently touring. Seeing the smallest of his sitting rooms almost made her cringe with embarrassment. The one in their rented town house was so small and frumpy in comparison. 

Ultimately, the thing that bothered her most about Lord Potter's town house was not its size, though that did overwhelm her at first. It was when they were drinking tea in a sitting room, when she realized that she had not seen a single servant. She guessed that meant that he had house elfs . . . and she could not stop herself from frowning. Hermione hoped that they were paid and treated well. Actually, she could not imagine Lord Potter not treating them well, but too many times they went unpaid. Hermione would have said something about that then and there if it were not for the well-timed elbow by Ginny. She wound up biting her tongue and promising herself silently that she would look into the matter after the wedding was over. After all, it was the province of the wife to maintain the household and look after the help. 

Dinner was a stately affair, filled with more courses than Hermione cared to count. Though she only took a few bites of each course, she was full before it was over. Afterwards, the gentlemen departed to smoke a few cigars and to talk amongst themselves about politics and other noteworthy events, leaving the ladies to make their way back to the sitting room to amuse themselves. 

"I think I ate too much," Ginny said. 

"I know," Hermione agreed. "If I were any fuller, you would have to roll me to the sitting room." 

"That does not sound like that bad of an option. I could lay down on the floor, and you could roll me the rest of the way," Ginny said hopefully. 

"Don't be silly, young lady!" said Mrs. Weasley. "If anyone is round enough to pull that off, that person would be me." 

The three of them laughed and continued on. It was when they first entered the sitting room when they noticed it was raining. Hermione made her way over to the window to watch the rain come down. 

"There seems to be a lot of rain," Mrs. Weasley noted. 

"Yes. And the clouds look dark and stormy . . . I am not sure when it will let up," Hermione said. 

"You do not think that there will be thunder—" Before Ginny could finish the sentence, the sky lit up, and they could hear the roll of thunder. "I guess that answers my question," said Ginny. 

"I fully believe that if you did not start to ask that question, then it would not have thundered." 

"That is ridiculous, Hermione, and you know it." 

"Is it?" 

"In any case, I hope your father and your brothers do not take too long," Mrs. Weasley said. "Otherwise, we will have to leave the carriage here and Apparate home." 

While the ladies waited for the gentlemen to return, the sky grew darker and darker. Soon, it became clear to all of them that there was no way they would be able to return home this night without the aid of magic. It was over an hour before the men came back and by that time, the storm was in full force. 

"Merlin! What a storm!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed when he entered the room. He strode over to the window to join Hermione in watching the storm. "We had no idea that this was going on." 

"That is one of the disadvantages of being in a room with no windows," Lord Potter said. He took a seat in an armchair near the door. "My apologies. I should have led us to another room." 

"No apologies are needed," Mrs. Weasley said. "But I think we ought to take our leave of your house right now. Would you mind if we leave the carriage and horses here, and come around tomorrow to pick them up?" 

"I understand. If I may ask, how do you intend to get home?" 

"You mean for us to Apparate, my dear?" Mr. Weasley ask. "I do hope everyone brought their wands." Nods were seen all across the room as everyone confirmed that they indeed bring their wands. "Very good then. Now let us go, one by one, so we don't accidentally—" 

"I am afraid you cannot Apparate from here," Lord Potter said. "There are wards preventing that all over the house. I thought it would be a proper precaution, at the time." 

"Oh. That does leave us in a quandary," said Mr. Weasley. 

"I can charm the horses and the carriage so the rain will bounce off of them," Hermione offered. 

"Yes, I know you can, Hermione, but we cannot risk Muggles seeing that," said Mr. Weasley. 

"I had forgotten about that," Hermione said. 

"While I normally would not suggest this, how about Floo Powder? It is messy, but we have plenty of it here," said Lord Potter. 

"That would work!" 

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Though it would be a shame to see the girls' dresses ruined." 

"It is fine, Mother. I never thought yellow looked all that good on me anyway," Ginny said. 

"Um . . . I hate to mention this, but we have a problem with that as well," Bill said. He sheepishly moved foot to foot, as if a bit embarrassed. 

"And what would that be?" 

"Well . . . Charlie and I never got around to hooking up the house to the Floo Network. We thought we would never use it, you see, as no one uses it because it absolutely destroys clothing." 

"That's right," Charlie said from beside his brother. "I mean, you could not really arrive to a ball covered in soot, could you?" 

"While I can see your point," said Mr. Weasley, "that puts us in a difficult position." 

"May I offer you the hospitality of my house?" Lord Potter asked. "There is plenty of empty rooms, and I can send Dobby and Winky to get some articles from your house. They do not Apparate. I have never been able to figure out just how they get from place to place." 

In the end, they agreed to that plan. Hermione, Ginny, and the rest profusely thanked their host, but he waved off their gratitude, saying it was the least he could do. Dobby and Winky were summoned and sent off on the errand, just as he had promised. While waiting for their return, everyone in the party settled down to a spirited game of Exploding Snap, with Mr. Weasley surprising them all with his amazing luck, somehow always managing to put down temperamental cards before they exploded in his hand. When they returned, Dobby led the gentlemen towards their rooms, while Winky did the same for the ladies. 

Winky was a very quiet house elf, who did not say a thing as she handed over the clothing she had brought to the ladies or as she led them towards their rooms. Mrs. Weasley was the first one to be dropped off, with her room located right next to Mr. Weasley's. Ginny was next, but instead of staying there, she insisted on going on to see Hermione's room after she left her clothing on the bed. 

Hermione gasped as she entered her bedroom for the evening, and she could hear Ginny doing the same. Her room was spacious, complete with a separate room to dress in as well as a bath. The furniture were all antiques, and she could almost hear the room buzz with the magic that lay within them. 

"Is this the bedroom for the lady of the house?" Ginny asked. 

"No," Winky replied firmly. "That not be proper. She's not Lady Potter yet." 

"I quite agree," Hermione said. "That would not be proper. Yet, it is more than I expected." Winky handed her clothing over, which she took. Hermione was about to ask whether the elf received any payment for her services, when she vanished. "That was fast," she said. "I was about to ask—" 

"That is probably why she left so quickly," Ginny said. "You do have quite a reputation amongst the house elfs." 

"I only want what's best for them." 

"I know. We could not find any of them to look after our town house because of your reputation though." 

"Well, excuse me!" Hermione said pointedly. "I do not see any reason to perpetuate a tradition whereby wizards take advantage, and in some cases, horribly abuse—" 

"—living, breathing, magical creatures. I have heard this all before, and you know I sympathize with you. I simply do not think you are going about it the right way." 

"And what would the right way be?" 

"I do not know. If I think of it, you will be the first one I tell." 

"Thanks," Hermione said. "Do you know how to get back to your room?" 

"I have no clue." 

"Neither do I, otherwise I would lead you there. I am sorry about this." 

"I think I will be fine going back on my own. I am sure that Winky will reappear once I leave you. She is too good of a housekeeper not to watch over her master's guests." Ginny paused, wondering if she should give Hermione some advice. "I would not wander around if I were you, though, Hermione. I don't think that any of the house elfs would be inclined to help you, out of fear that you might lecture them." 

"Thank you for the advice," Hermione said. "Truthfully, however, I am tired now so I cannot see myself wandering the halls this evening for any reason." 

"Not even for a midnight—" 

"That is enough, Ginny." Hermione turned her friend around and began pushing her towards the door. "You should know me better than that." 

"I was merely going to suggest that you have a few things that you ought to discuss with your fiancé . . . and this is the reaction I get!" Ginny said, only giving token resistance to Hermione's efforts to get her to leave. 

"You and I know perfectly well that you were going to say something else." 

"Really? What do you think I was going to say?" 

"I am not going to lower myself to answering that question." 

"Did you not just answer it?" Ginny laughed at the look on Hermione's face. It was priceless. "Never mind. I do not wish to know what you are thinking now. Whatever it is, it cannot be complimentary. Good night, Hermione!" She bounded out the door. 

"Good night, Ginny," Hermione said. Taking with her a simple gown made of muslin, Hermione went and inspected the bathroom. As the tub was already full of hot, steaming water, she took a nice, long bath, scrubbing all of the dirt away. She changed into the light, muslin gown and dried her hair by means of a spell. It was only then that she tried to get to sleep. 

Unfortunately for Hermione, she found herself unable to sleep. She first tried counting sheep, which did not work. She then tried clearing her mind of all her worries . . . except she could not do that. That was when she decided to go with a foolproof method – reading something light before sleeping. Hermione looked instinctively towards her night stand for a book to read, only to find it empty. 

Hermione knew she should have requested that Hogwarts, A History be brought to her before she went to bed. 

She sat in her bed for awhile afterwards, hoping that she would eventually get so tired that she could not stop herself from falling asleep. That did not work. She was not tired at all, and her eyes were wide open. 

There was no hope for it. She would have to leave the comfort of her room to find the library. Hermione grabbed a light robe and wrapped it around her before exiting the room. Once outside, she proceeded to the right, as she remembered that was the way she had come. As she walked, the lamps ahead of her lit up, illuminating her path. 

It wound up, however, that the direction she had come from was the only thing Hermione remembered about the layout of the house. She thought that the library was somewhere towards the center of the house, but she could not for the life of her say which direction the center of the house was. It was only after ten minutes of searching that she remembered a spell she could have used to point her in the right direction. Yet, when she reached into the pocket of her robe, she discovered she had forgotten to bring her wand. 

Hermione cursed under her breath. She should have known better to leave her wand behind. She hoped Ginny fared better in getting back to her room, but then remembered that the house elfs would have no qualms in showing Ginny around. Hermione was pondering whether she should try promising them aloud that she would not mention S.P.E.W. when she saw a figure in front of her, walking away from her. 

"Excuse me," she called out. The person turned around, and she saw that it was her fiancé. "Milord," she said, automatically dropping into a curtsey. 

He strode towards her, looking a bit exasperated. "You need not do that, Hermione," he said. "And what are you doing, wandering the halls so late at night?" 

"I could not sleep, sir, so I thought that reading might help . . . except my room had no books. So I set out to find the library, only I got lost," she said. 

"You haven't memorized the layout of our house yet?" he teased her, with a smile on his face. 

"No, it pains me to admit it, but I do not know where the library is in your house, milord." 

He frowned. "I do believe I said our house. For it is yours as well . . . and I thought I had told you that you need not be so formal around me?" 

"You did, sir." 

"Sometimes I wonder—" he started. 

"You wonder what, sir?" 

"I do not understand you, Hermione. Most of the time, you're so warm and caring. But at times, you act so cold towards me." He grimaced. "In any case, I do wish you luck in finding the library." He spun around and walked off. 

That was not what Hermione had expected him to do. She had thought he would do the gentlemanly thing and offer to show her the way to the library. Stifling a curse, she called out, "Milord, I would appreciate it if you could show me the way to the library." 

He ignored her. 

Hermione gathered her skirts and followed after him. He was being insufferable. She had done nothing to him this evening. She had not been snappish as she had been at the ball, but rather, she had been the model of decorum. That was more than she could say for him, as it was most ungentlemanly and quite rude for him to ignore a lady in distress. "I do believe I said I was lost, sir," she said, trying again. 

Still he ignored her. She wished vehemently for her wand, so she could hex him. Though Hermione wondered if any of her hexes were stick, given his proficiency in defending himself against hexes and curses. Still, it would be worth a try if she had her wand. 

"Would you please wait up, sir?" she asked, but his only response was to start walking faster. 

Hermione fumed. He was being such a bastard. She knew that he could hear her perfectly well, but he wanted to be difficult. She thought she knew what he wanted her to say. Part of her stubbornly resisted giving in, as she hated to be forced to do anything, but she was lost, and he was her only hope of finding her way anywhere in this house. There was nothing else she could do. 

"Harry!" she cried. 

He turned around immediately, with a large grin on his face. "Finally! That was not so hard to say, was it?" 

While her fiancé may have been in a good mood, Hermione was incensed. She marched towards him, getting angrier with each step. When she reached him, she pulled back her hand and slapped him. 

"Ow! Hermione! Why did you do that for?" 

"You bastard! I do believe I told you, sir, that I was lost." 

"I am so sorry. You must be talking about someone else. My name is not 'sir' or 'milord' or any of those awful things you have been calling me for the past few weeks." 

"Awful things? Why they are only the proper form of address! You hear them from other people each and every day!" 

He grimaced. "Maybe. . . but they're still awful. I'm not any of those things, Hermione. I'm simply Harry, and I do not know how to impress upon you that is what I wish to be called." 

Hermione felt her anger leak out of her, as sadness took its place. She did not know why he insisted her using his first name when they were not that intimate. Yet, she did not know how to refuse him. Sighing, she asked, "Would you please show me the way to the library?" 

"Hermione, I honestly do not understand what is so hard about saying my name. Do you dislike it?" 

"Not at all, sir." 

"There you go again. Don't you think it would be awful to be stuck in a formal marriage where you didn't feel comfortable enough with your spouse to use his name? Or perhaps we want different things?" 

"I . . ." she started. Hermione did not know what to say. She did not know if they wanted different things, because she did not know what he wanted. She wanted him and only him and— 

She had her answer. 

"I want you to be happy . .. Harry." 

"We do want different things." He cupped her face in the palm of his hand, his eyes dark and unfathomable. "You see, I want you to be happy." 

"I am happy, being with you," she said. 

"I wish that were true . . . but even now, I can see how close you are to crying." 

"I am not going to cry." 

"No, you will not, but you feel like it, and you won't tell me why." 

"I . . . I have to wonder why you always act like you care so much about me." 

"You think this is an act?" 

"Isn't it?" Hermione had had enough worrying and wondering about him. She had to know why, even if the reason broke her heart. "Isn't it an act? I have no clue why you would give a damn about me, aside from me being friends with your best friend's younger sister. And I have no idea why you asked me to marry you . . ." 

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. His jaw dropped. Disbelief was apparent on his face. "I thought I made it clear from the start." 

Hermione could feel the tears beginning to overwhelm her. It was as she had thought. He had made it obvious – that he was marrying her only to cover up his love for someone else. She had only not seen it for what it was because she wished to be blind. "Obvious? I suppose it is," she said, hanging her head. "She must be quite a witch, this witch that you love." 

"Merlin! You think that—" He lifted up her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I thought I had made it perfectly clear—" 

"You did," she said dully. 

"—that I love you," he finished. 

Hermione's heart leapt, and her lip trembled. "You love me?" 

"Since the middle of sixth year. Why else do you think I worked so hard to get made Head Boy? It wasn't as if I needed the extra duties." 

"But you hardly knew me! You hardly know me now!" 

"You think that matters?" he asked. "And I know you better than you think. I know you tend to bite your lip when you're thinking or worrying about something . . . that if you're worrying you also wrinkle your brow right here." He tapped his finger between her eyebrows. "You used to have the bad habit of biting your nails, but you don't anymore. You stopped some time between our sixth and seventh years." 

"So you do love me?" she asked again. 

"Yes, I do love you, Hermione, and I'll say it as many times as it takes to get you to believe it." 

"You do, don't you?" she repeated. She could hardly believe it. She had hoped that was the case all along, but she hadn't thought she would be this lucky. 

"I do. With all my—" 

Hermione kissed him, and this time, there was no hesitation in his response. He eagerly devoured her lips, as if trying to consume her, as if he could never get enough of her. His tongue clashed with hers, and he lifted her up against the wall, still kissing her with everything that he had. She could feel him grow hard against her, and it felt so damn good. She was getting wet again, from his kisses, from his scent, from him being so damn close to her yet so far away. She didn't need anyone to tell her that it meant that she wanted him, and that his hardness meant that he longed for her. She arched her back, pressing her hips against his, needing to get closer to him. 

He broke away suddenly, gasping for air. "Hermione . . . I love you but . . . we shouldn't . . . I shouldn't . . ." 

Hermione looked down at him, marveling again that he loved her. It was incredible. "You love me," she said. "Do you think I care about anything else?" 

He groaned, swinging her around so he could lift her up into her arms, while kissing her passionately, his lips crushed against hers, his tongue delving in to her mouth. His arms full of her, he strode down the hall, only stopping to open a door. She cast her arms around his neck, matching him kiss for kiss, indulging in the scent and taste of him. Before she knew it, she was on a bed, her robe discarded at the door, with him on top of her, his hands wandering up and down her, before settling on her bodice. He wrestled with her laces, trying to get them loose. She moaned impatiently into his mouth. It was taking him too damn long. 

"Harry, faster," she said. "Go on and rip the damn—" 

In a single motion, he did just that. His mouth left hers, and he kissed her under her chin, on the side of her neck, and then right under her ear – making her scream his name with pleasure. 

"Like that, don't you?" he whispered in her ear. 

"Yes . . . I do . . . oh!" She gasped as he kissed her there again. Soon, she wasn't able to think at all, lost in the feelings he was inciting in her. It turned out to be a night she would never forget. 

After they had both reached their peaks, Hermione embraced him, one hand idly ruffling his hair, as she waited for his breathing to calm down. Too soon, he lifted his head from her chest. She whimpered in protest, not wanting him to leave as she feared he would. Harry propped himself up on his arms, and before she knew what he was doing, he turned them both over, so she was now laying on top of him. 

He kissed the top of her head. "Hermione . . . you know you're mine now . . . forever . . ." he whispered. 

"Somehow I think I always was," she said, snuggling into his chest. He sighed happily. The two of them slept, completely sated and utterly spent. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she knew exactly where she was: in the bed and the arms of the man she loved. Her head resting against his chest, she listened to his heart beat for several moments before looking up. He was smiling in his sleep, and he looked as though he was having a pleasant dream. She wondered for a moment if he was dreaming of her, before shaking her head to push that thought aside. Hermione placed her hand against his chest, liking how firm he felt beneath her hand. She traced her hand over his muscles, silently appreciating how fit he was. Clearly, he had never let himself go to waste, no matter what it was he was doing during his time on the Continent. Her hand moved down his flat stomach, and she paused. 

Hermione was dreadfully curious about him, or rather about certain parts of his anatomy. She hadn't really stopped to look at him last night, as she had other things on her mind then – mainly getting him inside her before she went mad with longing. Yet, she did not know if it would be proper for her to look. They were not married yet, only engaged, and he was sleeping. It wasn't as if she had his permission. On the other hand, it wasn't as if he would know by reason of him being fast asleep. 

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she looked down quickly. She gasped. She had not expected it to look like that. Of course, she did not have a clear picture in her mind of how that part of him might look before. True, there were books in the library at Hogwarts on the subject matter, but she never did look, deeming it not a proper subject for a young lady. Hermione wished now she hadn't been so rigid, as it would be nice to have something to compare him to. She did not know if he was large, though to her inexperienced eye he seemed more than large enough. She was willing to bet that he wasn't misshapen in any way, despite the fact it looked kind of funny and— 

"See something you like?" 

Blood rushed to her face as Hermione realized that Harry wasn't sleeping like she thought he was. She quickly tore her eyes away from his nether regions, trying to find something safe to rest her gaze upon, only to find herself looking directly at his chest. 

His chest rumbled beneath her as he laughed at her confusion. "There should be no secrets between us, Hermione," he said. He grinned wickedly. "Just as there is nothing between us right now." To her astonishment, she could feel him harden against her. 

Harry gathered her into his arms and rose from the bed, somehow managing to do so without ever letting go of her or losing his balance. "Time for a bath," he said, walking towards a door which Hermione presumed led to a bathroom. 

"A bath?" Hermione was perplexed. She didn't think that was first and foremost on his mind given his arousal. 

"Yes, a bath. Lots of fun things we can do together in a bath." 

"Together?" For the second time that morning, her cheeks burned red with embarrassment. 

"Of course, together," he said. "I am not about to take a bath by myself when I have such a lovely wife to accompany me." 

"I . . . technically, I'm not your wife," she reminded him. 

"Yet. And only for four more days. And only because of a very small technicality, if you ask me," he said. Harry bent his head towards her to kiss her once. "Before last night, I could not imagine marrying anyone but you. Today, Hermione, I cannot imagine living without you." 

"And I you." She smiled up at him, comfortable to be resting in his arms. "I love you." 

"I love you too." 

Hermione loved to hear him say those words. She knew now how much he loved her, but when she heard him say those words, she wanted to gush like a silly schoolgirl. She would have been happy to do so, and she did not think that he would mind, except for the fact that there was a small voice in the back of her head eager to know why he felt the need to bathe when he so evidently had other things on his mind. 

"But a bath?" she asked again. "When there is a bed so nearby?" 

"Hermione," Harry said, "you cannot stay in my room the whole day, no matter how much I might want to keep you here, for surely the others would notice. We do not have all the time in the world." 

"I know," she said. 

"So we can either bathe so we can get ready before anyone starts to ask questions or we could make love to each other. . . or we could do both at once." 

Much, much later, Harry led Hermione to the library after having thoroughly educated her on how best to enjoy a bath. He sat down on the sofa, watching her browse the books he had in his collection. She selected a volume and returned to sit beside him, her leg lightly brushing against his. He draped his arm around her and watched her as she idly thumbed through the pages of the tome she had chosen. Neither of them knew how much time passed before they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. 

"There you are, Hermione!" Ginny said. "Oh. Lord Potter. Good morning." She curtseyed to him. "Thank you for inviting us to stay the night." 

"You are welcome," he replied. "Is there something that you need?" 

"I was looking for Hermione," Ginny said. "As we are ready to leave, and we thought it best to do so while the sky is clear." She beamed at her best friend. "I told Mother I would find you as I knew you would be where the greatest concentration of books was." 

"You know me too well," Hermione said. She stood up from her seat and turned to face Harry. "If you will excuse us, I am afraid it is time for us to part." 

"Let me escort you to the door," he said. With Hermione on one arm and Ginny on the other, he led them through the house and out the front door. The Weasleys had already arranged for the carriage to be brought out and were sitting within, waiting for the two girls. Harry helped them up into the carriage, one at a time. Hermione waved to him as they drove off, thinking that he looked a bit forlorn. She couldn't blame him. She missed him already and was certain that he felt the same. 

Later that day, during the afternoon, Ginny cornered her and set about asking questions. Hermione's friend had done her best to get her alone ever since she had seen Hermione and Harry sitting side by side in the library. Hermione had figured that Ginny would want to know what had happened between them, and that the best way to avoid such questions was to remain in the company of one of the older Weasleys at all times. She had been able to do that for several hours, but Ginny's patience paid off and Hermione had no where else to hide. 

"Care to share what happened between you and Lord Potter in the library?" she asked bluntly. 

"Nothing happened." This was not exactly true. They had kissed several times, and his hands had . . . well, let it be said that he was very talented when it came to using them. However, nothing major had happened between them. She told herself that was because they knew better to do anything in an unlocked room, but secretly she knew it was because Harry knew that she was a bit sore from their earlier activities. 

"And what, pray tell, is your definition of nothing?" Ginny asked mischievously. "As I know what you say is nothing certainly does not pass for nothing." 

"When we were alone together, we . . . spoke at length." 

"And what did he say?" 

Hermione grinned. There was one thing that she would never be shy to admit. "He said he loves me." 

"I told you so!" Ginny crowed. "And the best part is, I'll always be able to say that!" 

"Don't press your luck." 

"Hermione! Are you not happy that you were wrong this once?" 

"Happy is not the word I would use." 

"It's not?" 

"No. It's too . . . pale of a word to describe how I feel. I am more than happy, I am—" 

"You are what?" 

"I do not know," Hermione said. "I do not think the word has been invented yet to describe how I feel. So for now, happy is a good start."   


**Author's note: **That's it for this week, and I'd appreciate it if you could let me know what you think of it by leaving a review. The next chapter will be up next Saturday. Just to let you know, the full version of this chapter is at my Y!Group as one scene needed to be cut for this to be posted at ff.net. Finally, thanks to **jenbachand**, **Sarmi**, **Bladefanatic**, **Amynoelle**, **SquorpionLady**, **ears91**, **Mistress Desdemona**, **harrys_girl5**, **Amy Reynolds**, **karz**, **Mutsumi**, **Rachel A. Prongs**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Lockwood**, **Raven Potter Weasley**, **danielerin** (yes, you're right), **malu**, **lee74**, **Ali**, **Leah6**, **Jade**, **Noriko M.** **Chijinu**, **Alicia**, **Seakays**, **Rita Skeeter**, and **Lil-frankie14** for reviewing the last chapter. ^_^ I really appreciate you taking the time to leave me some feedback.   



	8. Chapter Eight : Love

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Eight : Love**

The next day, Harry called on them before any other visitors could arrive. It was a bit too early, in fact, for a visit but no one complained. Especially not Hermione who thought it had been far too long since she had seen him last. 

Hermione sighed happily as he sat down beside her. It was a relief to have him close by her again, and she could not wait until the wedding. It was amazing how relaxed she felt about their impending marriage now she knew that he loved her. All her worries seemed to have flown away. The conversation ebbed and flowed around her, but she hardly paid it any attention. She came out of her reverie only when Harry gently squeezed her hand. 

"Is that fine, Hermione?" he asked. 

"Is what fine?" She had no idea what he was talking about. 

"That we go to the Park," he explained. "If I am not mistaken, you never did get to see a kneazle." 

"Oh! That would be lovely." 

"Then that's settled," he said. He stood up, offering his arm to Hermione, which she gracefully took. 

"You had best go with them, Ginny dear," said Mrs. Weasley. 

"What? But I cannot go there again . . . I might see . . ." 

"See whom?" her mother asked. "Is there some wizard that we do not know about?" 

"No. There is no one," said Ginny. Hermione frowned. She felt badly for poor Mr. Longbottom as Ginny would not even give him a chance. She hoped that Harry had been able to speak with him and direct his affections elsewhere. 

With Ginny walking beside them, there was an aura of doom hanging over them as they proceeded to the Park. Hermione hated to see her friend like this. "I do not think you have anything to worry about," she said. "And I think being in public is safer than staying at home, for if you were there . . . well, there would be privacy for—" 

"You should know better than anyone that in the Wizarding world, one can achieve privacy by means of a simple spell," she replied bitterly. "Not that I think he could cast that spell." 

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Ginny was in a bit of a rut. "He is more powerful than you think," Harry told her. "And stronger than you think as well for him to live through everything that has been thrown at him." 

"Does it matter?" Ginny asked and returned to sulking. She did not respond to anything else they said, not even when they reached the Park and set out to search for kneazles. Harry found one soon enough, though they had trouble tempting it out from its hiding place. Once they had managed to procure its trust, Hermione marveled at how soft its fur was. She proclaimed it to be utterly adorable, while Harry looked on fondly and Ginny rolled her eyes, still in a snit. 

"I thought I had seen you here." No one had to turn around to place that voice. Hermione had hoped that they would not run into Mrs. Longbottom or her grandson, but it seemed as though Ginny's luck was not as good as hers. 

Perhaps that was why her friend seemed so out of sorts today. 

"Good day to you all," Mrs. Longbottom said. "And I am so glad that I saw you here. I thought I recognized you, so I sent an owl off to Neville, telling him to come here straight away. He had gone to your town house, you know," she said accusingly. "But I suppose you had no choice but to come here, Miss Weasley. It is quite understandable." Mrs. Longbottom paused to take a breath, and Hermione seized the thread of the conversation. 

"Are you feeling well, Ginny?" she asked, hoping to give her friend an avenue of escape. 

"As well as can be expected." 

"You look a little peaked," Hermione continued. 

"Does she?" Mrs. Longbottom peered at Ginny, assessing her color. "She looks fine to me. She only seems pale in comparison to you, and that is because you are positively glowing." Mrs. Longbottom turned to look critically at Hermione. "You might want to turn it down a bit, young lady, otherwise tongues will be wagging." 

"I am afraid I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about," Hermione said. 

"Of course you would say that. But you cannot fool me, though you think me a silly old biddy. Seen it all before, I have. And there is Neville now," Mrs. Longbottom said, walking back up the hill. "He is a good lad, as I am sure you can appreciate, Miss Weasley." 

"Obedient as well, I see," Ginny remarked. 

"Yes, yes. He does me credit," the old witch said proudly. In a louder voice, she called out, "Neville, do try to walk faster . . . no, do not _run_, a gentleman never runs . . . that is better." She turned sideways to introduce her grandson to them. "This is my grandson, Neville Longbottom. This is the Miss Weasley that I have told you about . . . and her friends, Lord Potter and Miss Granger." 

"Hello, Potter. You are looking well," Mr. Longbottom said congenially. 

"The same goes for you, Longbottom," Harry replied. 

"And Miss Granger, you look lovely today. They were both in my House and year at Hogwarts," he added as an aside to his grandmother, who was looking strangely at him. 

"I know," she said. "I am surprised that you know them." 

"Hard not to know each other considering we shared the same room for six years," Harry said. 

"It would be, wouldn't it?" Mr. Longbottom agreed. A sharp prod from his grandmother's cane had him wincing and revolving to greet Ginny. "Miss Weasley . . . you look . . . pretty. Um . . . may I have a few words with you?" 

"In private," his grandmother added for him. "Off you go dears. Have no fear. I shall accompany Lord Potter and Miss Granger." Mr. Longbottom stared blankly at Ginny for several seconds, before Ginny heaved a great sigh, grabbed him by his arm, and towed him away. 

"I knew that she would make a good wife for him," Mrs. Longbottom said as they watched her grandson and Ginny fade from sight. "He needs a strong witch like her." 

"I disagree," Harry said. "I think all he needs is more confidence in himself and his abilities." 

"Well, that goes to show how little you know him despite being in the same House at Hogwarts. But I shan't hold that against you." Mrs. Longbottom frowned. "I wonder . . . I hope he has not forgotten . . ." Abruptly, she began strolling in the direction where she had last seen her grandson. "Come along, you two. We mustn't leave them alone for too long together." 

"She will not accept him," Hermione said, so quietly that only Harry could hear her. 

"You would know better than me," he said. "Are you certain that she has not changed her mind? She did drag him off." 

"The look on her face clearly said that she wanted to get this travesty over and done with as soon as possible." 

"If that is the case, then the best we can do is to be there for her when it happens." As one, they quickened their pace, catching up with Mrs. Longbottom. She unerringly led them to her grandson and Ginny. 

Ginny stood a few feet away from Mr. Longbottom, leaning against a tree and looking like she needed a good cry. Mr. Longbottom was still on his knees, blinking as though not sure what had just transpired. His grandmother pressed forward, keen to remedy whatever had gone wrong. 

"I hope you have not forgotten the ring, Neville," she said sharply. 

"I didn't," he said. 

"Then what are you doing there? Go on and give it to her!" She prodded him with her cane. 

"She said no." The look on her face turned to one of embittered rage. 

"You stupid, stupid girl!" she wailed. "How dare you! How dare you lead my grandson on like that!" 

"Lead him on?" Ginny said, trembling. "Lead him on? Madam, I have never given the slightest indication that I felt anything for your grandson. Indeed, I have not seen him since he left Hogwarts, so I fail to comprehend how I could have led him on." 

"You are a shameless hussy! Come on, Neville." She yanked up her grandson by the collar. "We are leaving. Clearly, Miss Weasley is too ill-bred to make anyone a suitable wife." She stomped away from Ginny, her grandson stumbling after her. "Lord Potter, Miss Granger. I do wish you well. Though you would be well-advised, Miss Granger, to teach your friend the finer points of civility." She paused. "And whatever you do, do not let your children anywhere near them for she would only corrupt them!" With that final warning, Mrs. Longbottom stalked off, towing her grandson along with her. 

Hermione took one look at Ginny and knew she needed to go home, to lock herself into her room and have a good cry. She and her fiancé took Ginny by either arm, supporting her as they walked home. Once they had gone through the front door, Ginny broke away from them and made for the stairs. 

"That went badly," Hermione said as she stood by the doorway. 

"To say the least," Harry agreed. "There ought to be something we can do to help Longbottom get away from his grandmother. She is stifling him. I must remember to have a few words with some friends before we leave." 

"Leave?" 

"Yes. Did I forget to tell you? I thought the day after our wedding, we could return to my estate. It would have more privacy for us there." A smile briefly illuminated his face. "Though we have no set travel schedule and could put off starting the journey for a couple days, if we wanted to." 

"That sounds fine to me." Hermione sighed. "I wish there was something I could do for her." 

"I think what she needs right now is a friend. So if you will forgive me, I will take my leave," he said. 

"I will miss you," she said. 

"We only have two more days to wait." 

"But that seems like an eternity when I'm without you." 

"I love you." He kissed her softly on her lips. 

"I love you too. But you better be going before I decide that I cannot bear to part from you." 

"I will, my love. And please . . . give Miss Weasley my condolences." 

Hermione climbed the stairs, after he left, walking as quickly as possible to get to Ginny's room. Once there, she did not even have to put her ear to the keyhole to hear her best friend sobbing. She stepped away and decided to talk to Ginny later so Ginny could shed her tears in private. Hermione did not see her friend until that evening, when she made a short appearance at dinner. Ginny looked a fright, with her hair an absolute disaster and her eyes red with tears. She left the table halfway through dinner, without saying a word to anyone around her. Everyone in the room looked at each other uncomfortably, before her parents stood up and followed after her. 

Later that evening, Hermione knocked on Ginny's door, worried that nothing had been resolved when her friend had spoken with her parents. She received no answer, and when she checked the door, she found that it had been locked. Fortunately, she had come prepared, and she soon was able to break through Ginny's locking charm. 

Ginny was lying prone on her bed, her face buried into a pillow. She was no longer crying, but it was obvious that she was upset. She did not look up as Hermione entered, but rather buried her face deeper into the pillow. Hermione crossed the room and sat down beside her, leaning over to place a hand soothingly on her friend's back. She sat there quietly, waiting for her friend to speak. 

After several long minutes passed, Ginny found her voice. "I hate my brothers," she declared. 

"You do? Why?" 

"Because this whole bloody mess is their fault!" Ginny sat up, hugging the pillow to her chest. "It was them that mentioned me to Mr. Longbottom during one of the balls we attended earlier this season. And of course his grandmother was there to hear their comments, and she grilled them relentlessly . . . and decided that I would suit." 

"How did you learn this?" 

"Mum got the story out of them after I told her and Dad what had happened," Ginny said. "Oh! I could kill them right now!" 

"Your parents . . . they weren't upset, were they?" Hermione asked. 

"No, they were not." Ginny looked up at her friend, tears springing to her eyes once again. "Oh Hermione! Do you think I should have accepted him? Even though I do not love him? So I would not be a burden on my family?" 

"No, Ginny, of course not," she said, embracing her best friend. Ginny began crying into Hermione's shoulder. Hermione could not find it in her to blame Ginny for her refusal. She knew that there was plenty of people in society who would blame her. They would call her ungrateful and unfeeling for refusing him and remaining a burden on her poor parents. Yet, Hermione could not disagree with her friend's decision or scold her for it. Indeed, in a way, Hermione was that Ginny had refused Mr. Longbottom so perhaps her friend could marry a wizard she loved, just as she was going to marry the love of her life. 

"You are lucky, you know that, Hermione? To be asked by a wizard you love and not by one your family thinks is suitable for you," Ginny said. "Though perhaps love is not for people like me," she finished cynically. 

"I do not think that. I am positive that you will find someone to love as well, and that he will make you happy." 

"Oh, that is a happy lie! But I cannot believe it now. Even if there is a wizard for me, my idiot brothers would find a way to ruin my happiness!" Ginny continued to cry throughout most of the night, only stopping when she had completely exhausted herself. Hermione stayed with her and prayed that one day, Ginny would be proven wrong. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The next day was both awkward and busy, with everyone frantically trying to put the last minute touches on the wedding. Hermione found herself going to Madam Malkin's yet again, for one final shopping trip. She worried about Ginny, as her friend was abnormally silent, but she had no chance to speak with her until that evening. 

"So . . ." Ginny grinned as her friend entered her bedroom. "How did it go?" 

"How did what go?" 

Ginny bounced on her bed, seeming to have recovered from the events of yesterday. "Did you not receive a visit from my mother earlier?" 

"Oh. That." Hermione winced. "I was trying to forget that." Although her mother had given her a lecture about the same subject earlier during the day soon after her parents' arrival, Mrs. Weasley thought that it was necessary that she give Hermione some pointers on how things were done in the Wizarding World. Hermione appreciated the thought, but would have appreciated it even more if the two painful lectures had been combined into one. 

"Don't you dare. Not until you tell me everything that she said." 

"And here I thought an eavesdropping charm would do the trick." 

"She would have noticed it," Ginny explained. "I guess she is too used to us to being up to no good. I swear she always knows when one of us is doing something that we should not be doing." 

"No wonder why your mother is so worried all the time," Hermione said. 

"Hermione! I know how to behave myself!" 

"I was referring to your three older brothers on the Continent." 

"Oh. Them." Ginny frowned. "I suppose Fred, George, and Ron are all doing what they shouldn't be doing right now. But better that they be over there as I have more than enough brothers to deal with as it is." 

"Ginny . . . about that . . ." 

"I do not want to talk about it any longer. I feel sorry for Mr. Longbottom, but honestly! Who would want to marry him? Especially with his grandmother! I feel nothing but pity for any witch who happens to accept him." 

"Are you—" 

"That is my final word on the subject. Now come on, Hermione. Do tell me what Mother said. I am most curious." 

"I am not certain if it would be appropriate for you ears," Hermione said. 

"Oh! You are a tease!" 

"I am not. I am simply concerned about your well being." 

"Bugger that." Ginny launched a pillow at her friend, and Hermione dove for the bed and its reserve of pillows, so she could reply in kind. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Running down the steps of the church, almost tripping in their eagerness, Harry and Hermione headed to the carriage that awaited them. Harry did not pause for breath as they reached their destination, as he turned to lift his bride into the carriage. He leaped up in after her, and they set off towards his town house. 

"Finally," Hermione said "I thought we would never get away." 

"I know. Was it just me, or did that ceremony go on for longer than necessary?" 

"It isn't just you. I was ready to leave after the priest pronounced us man and wife." 

"You were?" he gasped in mock-surprised. "Why did you not tell me? We could have left then and there." 

"That might have seemed a bit rude." 

"True. But we could have been out of there a couple hours earlier. That would have been worth it, I think." 

Laughing, Hermione hugged her husband. "I am so happy," she told him. 

"Not nearly as happy as me," he said. 

"Would you like to wager on that?" 

"No, because I would not want you to throw your money away for I would certainly win." 

"Would you?" 

"Undoubtedly." Harry pulled Hermione into his lap. She placed her arms around his shoulders to steady herself. Bringing his nose up against hers, he said, "I love you." 

"I love you too." 

"Do you?" 

"Shall I show you how much?" And she proceeded to do just that.   


**Author's note:** That's all for part one. The next chapter will be posted in a week. I hoped you enjoyed this beginning part as much I enjoyed writing it, and I would appreciate reviews letting me know what you think. Thanks to **Rebeca**, **Amynoelle**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Muse**, **danielerin**, **Candy**, **Sarmi**, **lilly**, **Izabel**, **Jabba1**, **SpellboundWriter**, **Raven Potter Weasley, lee74**, **ears91**, **mikeus**, **SlythsRule**, **SquorpionLady**, **Lil-frankie14**, **ZetaStar**, **Quis**, **Leah6**, **Abriana Amati**, **koishii-glory**, **Tracy6**, **Sheilalein**, **malu**, **Lockwood**, **karz**, **Sakura**, **juliet's rose**, **Fire Lily**, **Bladefanatic**, **Hermione2567**, **sweetheart87**, **PrincessME**, **Rita Skeeter**, **LeslieGlady**, **Akshara**, **DrkAngl577**, **Muggle**, and **piper-h-99 **for reviewing the last chapter. ^_^ I'm glad to know that you liked it. To answer two questions that seemed to get repeated, my Y!Group is listed in my profile. As for when Draco appears, that's about thirty-five pages from the end of this chapter. But he soon does his best to make up for his late arrival. 


	9. Chapter Nine : Reprise

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Nine : Reprise**

_Five Years Later_

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped into her room. If she had thought that her mother had lost her mind while planning her brother Percy's wedding, the same went doubly for Fred's. Everyone had been shocked into silence that day when Fred had returned to the Burrow to announce that he was getting married. Her father had been the first one to recover and congratulate her brother. Ginny's mother, on the other hand, had taken . . . well, Ginny still was not sure if her mother was over the shock of Fred announcing that it was time for him to settle down. Fortunately, Fred's fiancée, Angelina Johnson, was more than capable of arranging the wedding with minimal input from Mrs. Weasley. 

Ginny held out hope that this meant she would not have to attend another wedding decked out in a pink dress. 

That hope was strengthened by the fact that Angelina actually listened to her once in awhile. In fact, her brother's fiancée had even plotted Ginny's ultimate escape from the Burrow. When a letter had come from Ginny's friend Hermione inviting her to Godric's Hollow, Angelina had insisted that she go. 

"After all, it's not safe for you here," Angelina had said with a wink. "Sooner or later, someone around here is going to suggest that you be a bridesmaid, and that simply won't do. You know what they say. Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride." With Angelina clearing the way for her like that, there was little Mrs. Weasley could do to stop Ginny from going. 

Ginny had been absolutely ecstatic. She had not been able to see her best friend for years. This was not for lack of invites from Hermione nor because of a shortage of planning on the parts of both witches. Mrs. Weasley had overruled each attempt of Ginny's to visit for some reason or the other. First, it had been that it would not do for her to impose herself on her newly married friend. Ginny could agree with that. Afterwards, her mother had said that her friend would be too busy with her first son, then her second pregnancy, and so on and so forth. Then, the one time when Hermione had invited her to another Season in London, Percy had decided to go get himself married and Ginny could not go after that was announced. Between all of those reasons, the last time she had seen Hermione was at the christening of Hermione's first son, and she suspected she only got away with that because Ginny had to be present as the boy's godmother. 

Ginny wondered how the years – and motherhood and marriage –had changed Hermione. Spotting her trunk, she put those thoughts aside. She had to start packing. After she had written back to Hermione to let her friend know that she was coming, Hermione had sent her a portkey that would take her to the Potters' estate in two days. She had been unable to pack before now as her mother had kept her busy with errands. Half of Ginny wondered whether that was some devious scheme on behalf of her mum to keep her at the Burrow, while the other half berated the first half for thinking that way about her mum. Ginny wanted to finish her preparations this afternoon, if at all possible, because who knew when she would get another reprieve. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

That same afternoon, Hermione Potter was busy preparing a room for her best friend's arrival. She hadn't seen Ginny in ages. Hermione had done her best to keep in touch, but her invitations were almost always refused and she had trouble finding time to respond to letters. The last time she had really spoken to Ginny was over four years ago at James's christening. 

She smiled to herself. Marriage to Harry did suit her. She would not have believed that if anyone had tried to convince her of that fact, but it was the truth. She liked having to move in both Wizarding and Muggle circles, and being a bridge between those worlds. She enjoyed being in charge of the household and being responsible for keeping things running smoothly. That certainly kept her on her toes, both physically and mentally. True, it wasn't the same mental challenge she would have received from teaching, but Hermione was able to keep up on magical research in her spare time and write a few articles of her own. 

On top of all that, there were her children. 

Barely nine months after the wedding, she had given birth to James. She had been stunned when she had learned she was pregnant. She knew, intellectually, that eventually she would have children, but she did not expect it to be so soon. Her mother had laughed at her disbelief, reminding her gently that younger women found it easier to conceive. If Hermione needed any more proof of that, she had only need wait a year when their second son, Alexander, arrived. Since then, Hermione had stayed up countless nights, subsiding on less sleep than she had at Hogwarts, but she wouldn't have given that up for anything. She was three months along once again, and she couldn't wait to hold this child in her arms. 

Pursing her lips, she mentally ran down the checklist she had come up with to prepare the room. With so many rooms in the manor, it was hard to believe that there weren't many she would want Ginny to stay in. Yet, there was nothing that would make her place Ginny anywhere near the nursery. James and Alex looked like little angels, but when one of them started to throw a tantrum, the other would soon follow. Fortunately for all concerned, that did not happen too often, but Hermione thought it better not to risk exposing Ginny to the head-splitting side of motherhood just yet. That would probably be enough to make the poor girl swear off marriage forever. Likewise, Hermione also knew better than to place Ginny close to the master bedroom. Usually either she or Harry remembered to cast a silencing spell, but sometimes they forgot, having other things on their minds. 

After those considerations were dealt with, there was also the matter of the size of the room. Hermione was not going to put her friend in one of the smaller rooms if she could help it. Hermione also wanted to make sure that the room was well furnished and recently dusted, though those qualifications were easier to come by. All of its cleaning charms needed to be checked out as well. Nodding her head, she decided that this room would be perfect She just had to arrange for a house elf to dust it the morning before Ginny's arrival and everything would be set. Hermione bit her lip, wondering how best to go about finding a house elf. Ever since she began overseeing Godric's Hollow, she had tried to free all of its house elfs and pay them wages. Unfortunately, the elfs resisted these changes with all their might, and they were still only paying barely a quarter of them. The rest of the elfs avoided Hermione like the plague, always fearful that she might present them with a gift of clothes – a gift they did not want to receive no matter what. 

She walked out into the corridor and scanned the corners and shadows. Hermione was willing to bet that husband of hers was skulking about nearby. Recently, he had developed a bad tendency to follow her around whenever he thought that she was working too hard, no matter how many assurances she gave him that she was feeling fine and that she was not about to fall apart simply because she was pregnant. 

"Harry?" she called out, hoping that her intuition was right and he was nearby. 

"Boo!" said a voice right behind her ear. She shrieked and jumped with fright. Whirling around, she saw her husband taking off his Invisibility Cloak. 

"Harry!" she scolded. "Don't frighten me like that! Don't you know that you shouldn't scare pregnant witches?" 

"And here I thought you did not want any special treatment," he said with a smirk. 

"Argh!" She pounded at his chest with her fists. "There's a difference between having a bit of common sense and treating me like a child." 

"Don't you know that I lose my mind whenever I'm near you?" He grinned at her. "I lay all the fault with you, of course." Hermione tried to frown, but would up smiling. It was hard to stay upset with him, especially when he grinned at her like that. Knowing that he was forgiven, he drew her up against him and kissed her. The kiss deepened, and he pushed her into the room and on to the bed. 

"Harry," she said, dragging her lips away from his. He quickly recaptured them, but when she pulled away from him again, settled for trailing butterfly kisses down her neck. "Harry, we can't do this. Not here." 

"Why not?" he asked. "It's our bloody house." 

"But I was going to give this room to Ginny. I don't think she'll appreciate—" She gasped as Harry found that tiny spot below her ear. 

"Find another," he said. Her protests melted away in the heat of his passion, and soon, she was in no mood to think at all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Ginny was always disoriented after using a portkey. Over the years, she had learned to stay still and not move until the world had stopped spinning. She blinked when she saw where she was standing. She was in a large parlor, as Hermione had promised, but there was no one there to greet her. Ginny closed her eyes, hoping that she was only disoriented for longer than she thought. She opened them to see that the room had remained empty. She pinched herself and winced. The world had stopped spinning, and the pinch had hurt so she could not be dreaming. That meant she had either come to the wrong house – which would be awful to explain – or that Hermione was running late. 

A crash sounded from outside the room. It was followed by another and then another, each getting closer and closer to where Ginny stood. Setting her bags down and making sure her wand was in her reticule, Ginny cautiously peeked her head outside the door. No one was in the hallway. 

Then there was another crash, a woman's shriek, the sound of a vase breaking . . . and a little brown-haired boy turned the corner, running straight towards Ginny and looking behind him for any signs of pursuit. He ran right into her legs. That stopped him in his tracks, and with practiced ease, Ginny lifted him up. "What is your name, and what sort of mischief have got yourself into?" she asked. He started wiggling, trying to get out of her clutches. 

"James! Get back here!" a woman cried. 

Ginny knew that voice, though it had been a long time since she had heard it. "Hermione?" she called out. "I think I have got him." 

"Ginny?" Hermione called back, sounding perplexed. She rounded the corner, and Ginny saw that her friend looked much the same as ever, if a bit more frazzled at the moment. The little boy squirmed some more, causing Ginny to almost loose hold of him. All of a sudden, she could sense the familiar aura of magic in the air, and she found her arms were now empty. The boy had freed himself from her and was running towards his mother. 

"Is it three already?" Hermione said to herself, absently bending to pick up her son as he reached her. 

"Yes, it is. And I can see what held you up. Or rather who." 

"I am sorry about that." Hermione glanced at her son. "And James is too, I am sure." 

"So that is James?" Ginny said. "He is much bigger now." 

"Is that any surprise? The last time you saw him, he was not even a month old." 

"I know, I know . . . but he grew up fast, didn't he?" 

"Sometimes I think too fast." 

"Is that why you want another one?" Ginny asked, recalling that gleeful letter Hermione had sent after she had discovered that she was pregnant again. 

"Yes. But this time I'm hoping for a daughter. I am sure a little girl would be less of a handful." 

"What did your parents say about that?" 

"They couldn't stop laughing." 

"And proceeded to embarrass you by telling your husband tales of what you did when you were little?" 

"Absolutely correct, I fear You know my parents well," Hermione said, smiling. "It is good to see you again, Ginny." 

"Same here." Ginny leaned over to ruffle James's hair. "Do you remember me?" 

He silently shook his head, his green eyes wide as he stared at the strange woman. "This is your godmother, James," Hermione told him. "Say hello to your Aunt Ginny." 

He held out a chubby hand for her to shake, which she did. "Hello, Annie Ginny," he said. Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione over his pronunciation of her name. 

"I'm afraid he has trouble pronouncing some sounds," Hermione explained. "But our Mediwitch has said that he'll soon get over it and that the best thing to do is to talk to him as much as possible." 

"You'll miss it when he grows older," she predicted. 

"I expect I will. But you must be exhausted." 

"Traveling by portkey isn't . . ." 

"Not from that, though it is not the most comfortable way to travel. I thought you would be exhausted from all the wedding planning going on at the Burrow." 

"Don't remind me about that. It makes me glad that I never got married." 

"Oh Ginny! It is not too late for—" 

Ginny held up her hand. "Stop it right there, Hermione. I have accepted the fact that I will always be a spinster." 

"You are not that old, Ginny! Only twenty-three." 

"And even you, though you protested mightily at the very thought of marriage, were married with two children at that age." 

"That's different. I—" 

"Enough." Ginny sighed. This was not a topic that she wanted to dwell on. Too often, she felt that the witches who tried to console her were only doing so out of pity, and she didn't want Hermione's pity. "Do you think it is possible for me to be shown to my room now? As I would like to refresh myself before dinner." 

"Oh, I do apologize. I am a horrible hostess. I should have thought of that earlier." Hermione swung James around to rest him on her other hip. "Your bags are in the blue room, right?" 

"If you mean the room where I arrived, then yes." 

"Good. Let's get those . . . I think Dobby will answer me . . . and then I'll lead you to where you'll be staying for the next couple months." Hermione walked to the blue room, with Ginny following after. She stopped as she entered the room, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I thought you left your luggage here," she said. 

"I did. Right in the middle—" Ginny pointed to the spot where she had left them, only to find it empty. "Where did it go?" 

"I would hope that one of the house elfs got it. Probably one of them did. They knew you were arriving today." 

"So . . . how goes S.P.E.W.?" 

"It's embarrassing! I cannot get even a quarter of the elfs to agree to wages. They break out in tears whenever I try to mention it." 

"That is a very good start. You cannot expect change to happen immediately." 

"I know. That is a bit sad, I think." 

"You do?" Ginny tilted her head, her hand on her chin. "It depends, if you ask me. Some things change too slowly . . . while others change all too quickly. Like your children growing up for one." 

"I suppose so." Hermione turned to face her friend. "Well, seeing as we no longer have to worry about transporting your luggage, shall I show you to your room? I'll save the grand tour for later, if that is fine with you." 

"Yes, please," Ginny said. Hermione looked at how tired her friend was and took pity on her. Within twenty minutes, Ginny was ensconced in her new room and five minutes after that, she was relaxing in a bath, trying to soak all her worries away. She wound up falling asleep there, but was fortunately awakened by an elf so that she had enough time to get dressed for dinner. That presented her with another problem – what to wear to dinner. She had forgotten to ask Hermione how formal she should dress and whether Hermione invited any of her neighbors to dinner that evening. Ginny finally settled on a simple frock of Spanish brown. Though it was a bit plain, she thought that fitted her status as a spinster. Fortunately, she was the only guest, and she found that she quite enjoyed being able to converse with Hermione and her husband over dinner. When she asked Hermione later that evening whether or not Hermione would be inviting anyone else over, Hermione had laughed and said that most of their neighbors were off in London for the Season. She had then went on to say that she would warn Ginny before anyone else came over, which took a weight off Ginny's mind. It was probably materialistic and shallow of her to worry about it, but Ginny did not want to look like a poor relation. Too often during her Season in London, she had been patronized for the state of her family's finances. She did not want to invite more comments in that vein by anyone Hermione might ask to dinner. 

The days flowed into each other, and soon a week had passed since Ginny began her stay at Godric's Hollow. She had soon settled into a routine there. In the mornings, after breakfast, she would go on a walk. Often she would be accompanied by Hermione and the friends would talk of days long past. Once in a while, Lord Potter would join them, and then the conversation would become more reserved. Ginny sometimes felt like the odd witch out when those two were together. They seemed to have so many memories at the manor that she knew nothing of. Sometimes, it made her sad to think that her friend had went through so much and she didn't even know about it. Other times, it made her envious to see how happy Hermione was with her husband. 

After their walk but before the midday meal, Hermione and Ginny would visit the nursery. Ginny adored her godson and his brother. One could so clearly see both Hermione and her husband in James; he looked so intelligent but was keen on creating mischief. Alex was more reserved than his older brother, which took Ginny by surprise as he looked like a carbon copy of his father. That reserve did not mean that he was not prone to getting in trouble, but rather, adults were more likely to be looking at James and not him when Alex made up his mind to do something he shouldn't. 

There were always several hours in the afternoon, however, when Ginny was left to her own devices. The Potter boys took their naps then, though Ginny experienced first hand several times how hard it was to put them into their beds. Hermione would have matters that she had to deal with during those afternoon hours as well. Hermione never volunteered what she was doing, but Ginny once caught Hermione being lifted up against the wall of a corridor by her husband. As curious as Ginny was, even she did not want to know what would happen next and she fled the scene, hoping desperately that neither of them saw her. Thankfully, they had not. 

Following that incident, Ginny had decided it was far safer to stay outside during the afternoon. Fortunately, she settled on reading under the big oak tree just outside the front door of the manor. If she had tried to explore the small woods that ran behind the manor, she would have soon discover how wrong her intuition was in that area. For whatever reason, her natural curiosity did not extend to those woods and everyone was much happier for it. 

Ginny never lacked for reading material on her afternoons outside, as the manor was plentifully supplied with books on every subject. Though that was to be expected given that Hermione lived there. Sometimes, it did get boring, but she was grateful for the break from her family and so never complained. One day, about a fortnight after Ginny had arrived, she was surprised to hear footsteps along the path to the house. Looking up, she saw that a tall man was quickly approaching her. She grinned as she saw the red mop on top of his head and the freckles that spotted his face. "Ron!" she exclaimed, running to him. "It has been so long since I last heard from you!" 

He hugged her and swung her around in the air. "Ginny! You look well. Life here agrees with you." 

"Does it?" she asked. Before he started to answer, she added, "But never mind that, it does not signify. Why are you here?" 

"Well, I came for Fred's wedding, of course. I did not dare risk raising the ire of the twins. Who knows what they would have done to me?" Ginny nodded in agreement. "But when I got back to the Burrow, you weren't there. I asked Mum about you, and she said that you were up at Godric's Hollow." He looked reproachfully at her. "You should have told me, you know. I would have come." 

"Huh? What are you talking about?" 

"About your wedding, of course. Do you think I would have missed the wedding of my favorite sister and my best friend? I'm only surprised that the twins weren't more upset about the whole matter, as I know they didn't attend as well for they were with me at the time." 

"My wedding? Wait, you have got it—" 

"Don't worry about it, Gin. I blame Harry more than I blame you. He knew where I was at, for one. He should have come and got me. Better yet, he could have bloody well told me about his intentions before flying back to England. If I had known he was going to court you, I would have accompanied him." 

"Ron, if you will shut it for a minute and listen to me—" 

Just then, the front door burst open and a brown-haired blur came tumbling towards them. "Annie Ginny!" cried James as he latched on to his godmother's leg. "Annie Ginny, pick me up? Pwease?" Ginny smiled as she lifted him up. He looked at Ron and broke out into a large grin. "Unca Wheezy!" He held out his hand. Ron shook it cautiously. 

"You are an adorable little bugger," he said. As an aside, he whispered to Ginny, "Since when was your first name Annie? I always thought it was Virginia. Did you change it when you got married?" 

Ginny rolled her eyes. The fates were conspiring against her today. She hoped that she'd be able to set her brother straight before Lord Potter made an appearance. "He has trouble with his t's," she said. "He was trying to say 'Aunt.'" 

"Aunt? Is this one of Percy's then?" He searched James's features. "He doesn't look like a Weasley. He must resemble Penelope's side of the family." 

"No, he is not a—" Once again, Ginny was interrupted, but this time by her best friend, who came running out the front door in search of her son. 

"Oh thank Merlin, you found him," Hermione said as she caught sight of them. Her chest heaving, as though out of breath from chasing James, she walked up to them. "I had been looking all over for him." She glared at his son. "And that was a neat escape, young man, but you remain destined to have a bath." 

Ron gawked at her. There was no other word for it. His jaw dropped, and he couldn't stop staring at her chest. "Hermione?" he said, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Hermione Granger?" 

"Actually, she is Hermione Potter," Ginny said, taking her chance to correct her brother's misapprehension. "As you should know. I sent out your invite to the wedding myself. Or were you ignoring your mail that week?" 

"Hermione Potter? You mean to say—" 

"That my best friend married yours five years ago," Ginny told him. Catching sight of Hermione's confusion, she said, "You have to forgive Ron. He's been out of touch with events here in England. Probably too much to drink." 

"Bloody hell. I need a drink," Ron said suddenly. 

"Ron! Watch your language!" 

"Are you feeling all right, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked. "You look a little pale." 

"Nothing you need worry about, Lady Potter"—he spat out her title—"and it is nothing that a drink will not fix. And don't bother to show me in. I know my way around." He stomped off, leaving two bewildered witches behind him. 

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked. 

"I do not know. I suppose maybe he is feeling a bit foolish right now because he thought . . ." Ginny didn't finish that sentence. There was no reason to embarrass her brother further by letting everyone else know that he thought that it had been her who had married Lord Potter. "But even if he was feeling foolish, there is no reason for him to be in that bad of a mood." 

"Well, I hope his mood improves." Hermione sighed. "And I must let the kitchen elfs know that there is another for dinner. After I get this little rascal into the bath, of course." She walked back into the house, little James protesting all the way, and Ginny followed. Ginny hoped that her brother was only feeling foolish because he thought that she had married Lord Potter. Yet her intuition told her differently. It told her that the reason he was upset was the same as the reason why he could not help but stare at Hermione.   


**Author's note:** Sorry for the late update, but I got held up writing Charming instead of coding this one. The next chapter should be out on Saturday. I hope you'll consider leaving a review as I'm very interested in hearing what you thought. Finally, thanks to **danielerin**, **Rebeca**, **juliet's rose**, **Leah6**, **lee74**, **michelline**, **Jabba1**, **Rita Skeeter**, **lil-frankie14**, **Fire Lily**, **Sheilalein**, **LeslieGlady**, **SquorpionLady**, **piper-h-99**, **anarian**, **Pretto**, **malu**, **Izabel**, **ears91**, **mutsumi**, **mdemanatee**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Jade121**, **Bladefanatic**, and **Noriko M. Chijinu**, who all reviewed the last chapter. ^_^ Thanks for taking the time to do so! And I hope this second part won't disappoint. 


	10. Chapter Ten : Worries

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Ten : Worries**   


Fortunately for all concerned, Mr. Ron Weasley did not make an appearance at dinner. Hermione duly informed Harry about the sudden arrival of his best friend and his subsequent urge to wet his throat. Harry thanked her for telling him and later that evening, set out to find his wayward friend before he drowned in his sorrows. Harry wondered privately what could have set Ron off. He hoped that Ron did not really expect him to marry Miss Weasley. Miss Weasley was a sweet girl who would make someone a good wife, but she wasn't for Harry, despite the fact that Ron had always tried to get Harry to take interest in her. Harry had always resisted, knowing that he would not be able to love any witch like he loved Hermione. 

It was not that hard to find Ron. Harry had simply mentioned his name to Dobby, and the little house elf was nodding his head, saying that he knew where Ron was. Dobby led Harry to the parlor where Ron was holed up in, but Harry thought he could have relied on his nose. The stench of liquor was that noticeable. 

His eyes watered as he entered the room, and he had to squint to see. He saw that Ron had went through most of the bottles of wine and champagne in the room, and had recently begun on the brandy. "Hello, Ron," he said. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" 

Ron glared at him. "Not long enough, eh, Potter?" he snarled. Harry was taken aback by his response. He had no idea what caused Ron to be in such a foul mood. "I bet you wish that I never darkened your doorstep," Ron said, taking a swig of brandy from the bottle. 

"I think you have had too much to drink," said Harry, moving forward to take the bottle away from Ron. Ron pulled away from him, hugging the bottle to his chest with one arm with the other reaching for his wand. "There is no need for that," Harry said. "And I would not dare if I were you. I was always better at hexes than you." 

"Bloody bastard, that's what you are," Ron cursed, but he stopped reaching for his wand. "So you must be proud of yourself." 

"Whatever makes you say that?" 

"You mean you're not? You mean you are ashamed of the way you acted?" Ron curled his lip. "Too little, too late, if you ask me." 

"You are being purposefully vague here. What do I have to be ashamed of?" Harry asked. 

"Stop with the act, Potter. I know you are still congratulating yourself over the way you stole my witch." 

This time it was Harry who itched to hex the wizard in front of him. "What do you mean your witch?" 

"You know bloody well that Hermione was in love with me . . . is in love with me. You knew when you left that I was going to come back for her, but you were too cowardly to tell her that. No, you just had to go and take her for yourself, not even giving me a word of warning." 

"If I remember correctly, you were too pissed drunk and enamored of the blonde witch that was sitting in your lap at the time I left to pay attention to anyone else, much less Hermione. And you never, ever intimated to me that you even thought Hermione was pretty." 

"That's a damn lie and you know it. I was off my rocker for her. Would have given the girl anything just for a single smile. But no, Harry Potter is a rotter, he doesn't play fair, he steals the girl out from under you." 

"You knew that she was going to London for her Season. If you loved her so much, you ought to have come back then rather than seeing how many wenches you could lay in a week." 

"Oh, hell no. Do not try to take that high road with me. You cannot pretend that you never had your head turned by one of those wenches." 

"I never said that. But when I heard about Hermione going to London to look for a husband, I knew better than to sit and wait and hope that no other bloke would take her." 

"None of them would have if it weren't for you!" Ron shouted. "She did not want to get married. Ginny told me. Said that it was tiring to listen to Hermione complain about being put out on the marriage market and all that rot. So I waited. But when I come back, what do I find? My best friend stabbing me in the back and taking my girl, the girl I always dreamed of." 

"Bullocks! If you loved her, you should have come back to make sure that no one else asked her, to make sure no one swept her off her feet." 

"Did I not tell you that no one would have if it weren't for you? She only accepted you because she had to. She could not have refused a noble like yourself." Ron grinned maliciously at his friend. "Face it, Potter. She did not want to marry you. She only did it because she had no choice. If I had been there, she would have never given you a second glance." 

"You are quite out of her mind," Harry said quietly. "I hope you recover your senses by the morning. Good night." He walked out of the parlor, not quite sure with whom he was more disgusted with. Ron, for coveting another man's wife – or himself. 

For after five years of marriage and two wonderful children, he felt a shred of doubt. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The next morning found Ginny walking arm in arm with Hermione around the small park that surrounded Godric's Hollow. Breakfast had been a strained affair, with Ron alternating between glaring at Lord Potter and looking lovingly at Hermione. Ginny hoped desperately that her brother would demonstrate some sense while at the manor. She did not expect for that to happen, however, for her brother could be remarkably dense at times. Knowing how apt he was to misjudge female emotions, she was willing to bet that he would completely miss how much Hermione doted on her husband. 

"You are unusually quiet today," Hermione said as they rounded a corner. 

"I am? Perhaps it is because I am appreciating the scenery," Ginny replied. As luck would have it, she tripped over a rock in the path. Ginny started to plunge forward, and she knew it was going to be a bad tumble, but Hermione managed to pull her. Muttering her thanks, Ginny rubbed at her arm, where Hermione had gripped her. She was grateful to her friend, but it hurt. Though not as bad as a fall on her face would have. 

"I can see that you have been enjoying the scenery," Hermione remarked. They started walking again, as she spoke. "You have been rather inattentive ever since we set out, and that was just the latest example of your behavior." 

"I know. I cannot explain why, but I am not quite myself today." 

"Is something worrying you?" 

Ginny sighed. "Just my family." She did not want to go in to specifics about who in her family she was worried about. Ginny might have underestimated Ron (and she dearly hoped so) and if that was the case, it would not do to put him down in front of Hermione. 

"I see. I suppose your brother must have told you something," Hermione said. She echoed Ginny's sigh. "Truth be told, I do wish I had some type of prior notice before your brother appeared. No, no, I am not upset at you or at him," she hastily said when she noticed Ginny getting ready to apologize. "I merely regret that we will have a very unbalanced table until I can find another female guest." 

"We will?" Ginny's face wrinkled in puzzlement. "I count two ladies and two gentlemen . . . though I could understand why a person would not want to count my brother as a gentleman . . ." 

"Ginny! What a thing to say! About your own brother, no less." 

"That is precisely why I can say something like that. Because he is my own brother." 

"Still you know you shouldn't." 

"Hermione, you and I are far too good friends for us to mince words when speaking. It was hardly the epitome of politeness when my brother helped himself to your cellar as soon as he arrived." 

"I must admit I was taken aback, but he seemed none the worse for wear this morning." Hermione shrugged. "I am not so hungry for gossip, however, that I would pry into a visitor's personal business." 

"Hermione, you were never hungry for gossip. You were positively boring in that regard." 

"So sorry to disappoint you. Was there someone you wanted to check up on?" 

"No, not really." Ginny could not think of anyone she wanted to hear about. She was curious about what had happened to her year-mates, but knew that it might make her feel depressed all over again to learn that they had married while she had retired to spinsterhood. 

"In that case, as I promised to warn you, the reason why our table will be unbalanced is because I invited an old friend of Harry's over for the next few weeks. You might remember him from Hogwarts." 

"Is he a student from Gryffindor then?" Ginny asked. 

"Yes, but from a long time ago, before any of us were born. You might better remember him as being a DADA professor for one year." 

Ginny blanched. "Please do not tell me that you invited Gilderoy Lockhart here. And if he told you he was in Gryffindor, he must be lying. I think the only House that would not be up in arms to kick him out would be Hufflepuff." 

"No, not Lockhart. I get enough teasing about that as it is, even though I was only twelve—" 

"But what a smitten twelve you were. How long did you spend composing that—" A deadly glare from Hermione stopped Ginny in her tracks. It promised much pain in the near future if she continued with that thought aloud. "Fine then. Who did you invite?" 

"Remus Lupin. You remember him, right? He was at the christening as well, standing in as James' grandfather." 

"Yes, I do." Ginny had vague memories of a man, gray before his time, who she tended to ignore as he faded into the background. He did not socialize much at the christening, and Ginny had not been one to complain. Despite her knowing that the Wolfsbane Potion kept him from harming others whenever he transformed, she remained wary of him and any other werewolf, as she had been warned to stay far away from them ever since she was a little girl. Intellectually, she felt pity for them and hoped their conditions would improve, but she could not help but fear them. Ginny supposed it was different for Hermione and her husband as they had not been raised to despise werewolves. 

"Do you mind?" Hermione asked. "I can assure you that he will be supplied with Wolfsbane Potion when he needs it, even if I have to brew it myself." 

"I would expect you to be looking forward to brewing it yourself. Why you actually like Potions, I will never understand." Ginny shuddered. Seven years of having to deal with Snape were seven years too many. To be fair, she doubted that she would have liked the subject anyway, with the intense amount of preparation and fine attention to detail that it required. However, Snape had made the ordeal that was Potions even more tortuous. 

"I find the subject fascinating. Though I admit, our professor was horrible for taking the joy out of potion brewing—" 

"The joy out of potion brewing? Hermione, have you gone mad?" Ginny asked. 

"I have to agree with my sister. That does sound stark, raving mad," said a male voice. Ron Weasley stepped forward quickly, catching up with the two woman. "Good morning, Ginny, Hermione." Before she could step back, he pressed forward to grab Hermione's gloved hand and plant a kiss on it. He smiled up at Hermione, ignoring his sister all the while. 

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione. Ginny merely nodded her response, silently cursing her brother's dullness. She could see that Hermione was not pleased with how forward he was with her and the way he assumed that he could call her by her first name. 

"Oh, Ron is fine. We are practically family, you know," her brother blithered on. 

"If you say so, Mr. Weasley," was Hermione's stiff reply. Ron pressed forward to take Hermione's arm, but she quickly dropped Ginny's hand to move to the other side of her friend. That left Ron with no choice but to walk beside Ginny. 

"So how are you two fine ladies this morning?" Ron asked, peering around Ginny to stare at Hermione. 

"Tolerable." 

"We are both fine. I am surprised that you are out and about so early," said Ginny. 

"Early? Why it is nearly noon!" 

"It is?" Hermione asked. She looked surprised to hear the time. "I must be going. I meant to see James and Alex before this. If you will excuse me . . ." She began marching back towards the manor. 

"Here! Let me accompany you," said Ron. Ginny wondered if she ought to use a full body-bind on him. That might be preferable to letting him continue on annoying Hermione and winding up with any number of unorthodox and unpleasant hexes that she might throw his way. 

"Thank you for the offer, sir, but there is no need. I expect Harry will be along to see them as well. We like to spend a bit of time alone as a family." Ron only grimaced at Hermione's words and continued to approach her, intent on escorting her back to the house. Hermione quickly pulled out her wand, and with a swish and a flick, she was gone. 

Ginny let out the breath she had been holding. She had been certain that Hermione was going to do something to her brother for being so familiar. She wondered briefly how Hermione managed to Apparate given the wards around the manor, but then noticed a trail of footprints leading on the path in front of them. Ginny smiled to herself. Hermione must have turned herself invisible to avoid dealing with her brother. When Ginny felt that Hermione was far enough away, she turned to berate Ron, who was muttering under his breath. 

"What was that all about?" she asked sharply. 

"What was what all about?" was his reply. 

"You know what I am speaking about. You practically drove Hermione away, acting that way." 

"I do not see anything wrong in the way I acted. I was merely trying to be friendly with my sister's best friend." Ron sulked. "I thought you would appreciate that." 

"From the looks of it, you were being a bit more than friendly. I did tell you about her marriage, did I not?" 

"Yes, you did, and it should have never happened," he said. 

"Ron, you are both dull and blind. Have you not noticed how happy she is?" 

"Is she really happy?" he replied. "Or has she merely convinced herself that she is happy being tied down to a man she barely knows at such a young age, because she was left with no choice?" 

"I cannot believe this. You have clearly lost your mind." Ginny paced away from Ron. "I do not know when you started to fancy her—" 

"I never said I did!" 

"Your actions speak more loudly than your words ever could, brother dear. I must point out that out of all the males at Hogwarts, she knew Lord Potter best and doubtlessly, she knows him even better now after being married to him for years." 

"I suppose so but—" 

"And it reflects poorly on your character for you to behave like this! So please, stop this—" 

"You can only suggest that because you have never been in love," Ron said accusingly. "If you had . . . you would know how I feel. And I never had a chance with her, because of him." His voice dripped with scorn. "If he had let me know that he planned to . . . if I had a chance to court her, to give her an alternative . . . but no, he was too afraid to do that because he knew she would chose me. He was not sporting enough to give me a chance, best friend though I was. So I will take my chance instead. Now that I am here, I will take my chance to woo her and prove to that bastard that she always was mine." 

Ginny slapped him across the face. "You have lost all sense of honor," she told him. "I hope you come to your senses before you embarrass the family completely." She walked away, not wanting to deal with him any further at the moment. When she got back to her room, she locked herself in and started thinking of how she could foil her brother's foolish plans, without letting either of her hosts know about them. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"Are you excited? To see Remus again?" Hermione asked as Harry crawled into their bed. 

"Yes, dear," he answered absently. Hermione bit her lip, wondering what was wrong. Whenever they had spoken of his parents' friend coming to visit them previously, he could hardly say enough on the topic. Hermione had been rather proud that she had thought of inviting him, both for the joy it gave Harry and the chance it gave her to set Ginny up. 

There would be a certain symmetry if James's godmother was married to his godfather. If Ginny had visited her sooner, Hermione was certain that she would have had children of her own by now. Trying to seeing if she could engage her husband more in her plans, she continued, "Our dinner table will be unbalanced, I fear. Can you think of any other witch that we might invite?" she asked. "Maybe one that Mr. Weasley might be interested in seeing." If anything Harry seemed to sink deeper into his depression at her question. He didn't answer her, but stared off at the wall, as if deeply troubled. Hermione sighed. She hated to see him like this. "Love, whatever is bothering you?" she asked. "Is there anything I can do?" 

"I . . . it is nothing, Hermione," he said quietly. 

"It does not look like it is nothing from the way you have been acting. You have seem positively disheartened all day." She paused, not sure if she should continue with her thoughts as it might be a touchy subject with him. "Are you upset with me? For ignoring Mr. Weasley so?" 

"Upset with you? No, not that, love." He turned to face her, his arm encircling her out of habit. "You've done nothing wrong." Here, Harry looked away from her and towards the covers. "Though you do not have to ignore Ron, if you do not want to." 

Hermione quivered, wondering if she should tell him what she thought of his best friend. "I find his manners too forward for my taste.," was what she settled on saying. When he did not reply, by word or deed, she pressed on. "In fact, I found myself close to hexing him at time. He . . . I wish he would leave me some space. I fear I do not like him." Harry did not respond, making Hermione wonder if she had angered him. "I shall try to like him though . . . for your sake and Ginny's." 

"You need not try to like him for my sake," he said bitterly, his eyes meeting hers finally. "Indeed, if I had my way, you would never go near him." 

"Harry," she started. She leaned forward to kiss him gently. "Is there something you are keeping from me?" 

"What makes you—" 

"Please, love, I want to know. If it is affecting you this much . . . I want to know, so maybe I can help you." 

"And what if it simply makes you furious with me?" Harry tore his gaze away and bit his lip, fretting al the while. Hermione laughed, partly from his question but mostly at the proof that they were beginning to pick up on each other's habits. He did not used to do that before. Startled, Harry began to pout. "I do not think what I said was all that amusing." 

"Oh, but it is. Yet what is even funnier"—she leaned forward so their noses were touching—"is that you were biting your lip, just like I do when I'm worried. It was"—and at those words she kissed him, then settled back to look into his eyes—"adorable. I love you so much." 

"And I you," he said, returning the kiss. She sighed happily, but he did not join her. "I do not think you are taking seriously the possibility that—" 

"That whatever is troubling you so will rouse in me a fast and furious tempest directed at you?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. "It might. But you know as well as I do that it is ever so much fun to make up." 

"Is it?" Harry grinned, his first real grin of the entire day. "I thought that making up landed you in your present condition." 

"It did. Isn't that lovely?" She beamed at him. 

"I have this recollection of you swearing something to the tune of never again when it comes to having more children." 

"You cannot credit what a witch might say during labor, love. I was never snippy during my pregnancies." 

"Not counting—" Hermione pounded his arm, knowing what he was going to say next. "Fine, fine. I shan't count anything you said during labor. Though I thought that still counted as part of your pregnancy." 

"It does, and yet it doesn't." Hermione shrugged. "That has always been painful, and I doubt there will ever be a way to prevent that. And that is all I wish to speak of on that subject. You, sir, are trying to get away from our original topic. What is bothering you, Harry? Trust me please." 

"I do. And I should trust you more." He took a deep breath and gathered his courage to tell her. "I never did tell you why I came to London back then, did I?" She nodded her head no. "Well, I did not want to say it at the time, as I thought it would sound presumptuous, but I came back to marry you. After I heard about you going to London to find a husband . . . I could not stand the thought of you marrying someone else, so I came back right away to see if you would have me." He smiled sadly. "And you did." 

"Harry." Impulsively, she hugged him. "How could I be upset at that? I . . . I love you. It makes me happy to hear how much you love me. I am not mad, and I wonder why you think I would be." 

"I'm not finished yet," he told her. "I did not tell anyone why I was leaving because I did not want anyone to know in case you refused me. I suppose, in retrospect, I should have . . . but I cannot do anything about that now." Hermione waited patiently as he stopped to collect his thoughts. "It . . . it seems that by doing so, I left you with no choice but to marry me . . ." 

"Stop right there, Harry. I had a choice. I could have said no." 

"But you wouldn't, would you? Because of the difference in our stations . . . and you always been so mindful of . . ." 

"That is enough, Harry Potter," Hermione said, feeling miffed that he would assume that she would marry anyone who asked her. "Since when have I bowed to the pressures of society? If I did, I would have been on the marriage market as soon as I left Hogwarts, and you know it. I said yes back then because I love you. My head did not know it, but I think my heart always did. That I love you so much that . . . sometimes it gets hard to breathe, feeling the way I do about you." She trembled, not sure of what she could say to impress upon him the depths of her love. 

"That was stupid of me, wasn't it?" he asked softly, speaking to himself. He raised his head to look at her. "I almost hate myself for being so stupid, for doubting you, for . . ." 

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his self-incriminations. "I understand. You do not doubt me per se, but you love me so much that you find it hard to believe at times that I feel the same way." She smiled sadly at him. "It is the same with me at times. It usually does not last that long, because you are always there to remind me that you do." 

"I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you too." Their lips met, and he pulled her against him. She snuggled into his side, happy to be so close to him. 

"I should tell you what brought this on. So you know. I had a talk with Ron earlier"—Hermione stiffened as she knew that talk could not have been good—"and he accused me of never giving you a choice between suitors. I think if I had told him where I was going and why, he would have come back as well . . . but as my rival." His confession finished, he shuddered from the weight of it being lifted from his shoulders. 

"I am glad you did not. The way it happened was much more straightforward and happier for all those concerned, I think," Hermione said softly. 

"I do not think Ron would agree." 

"I was speaking of ourselves, as I do believe we are the principal parties in our marriage." She smiled roguishly, thinking that changing the subject might make him feel better. "Or is there something else you have not told me, Harry? Maybe I should have read those marriage documents when you offered." 

Harry broke out into laughter, which filled the room. "There is nothing else, my love. I do not know how I would get on without you." 

"Very badly, I am sure," she told him, smiling all the while. Inwardly, she worried how she would survive being in close quarters with Mr. Weasley for however long he decided to stay. She could not simply kick him out, as whatever his faults were, he was Harry's friend and Ginny's brother. Hermione resolved to not be found alone by him at all costs. She knew that so long as she was inside the House Elfs would aid her, no matter how much they disagreed with her policies. Their loyalty was unquestionable. Unlike that of a jealous friend, as her husband was unfortunate enough to find out.   
  
  


**Author's note:** Another early update to make up for the latest of the last one. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would love to hear what you thought. Finally, I would like to thank **ears91**, **riddikulus_leigh**, **lynn joe**, **Quis**, **malu** (Draco showing up will probably cause Ron to offer a temporary truce), **Tracy3**, **mutsumi** (actually, she's still waiting), **jenbachand** (not with the way they're going -- and they're still young!), **Bladefanatic** (see chapter twelve), **Izabel**, **harrys_girl5**, **Cinderelly**, **Blue_Rain1**, **Jabba1** (he was a bit occupied at the time and was ignoring his owls, assuming they'd be from his mum telling him not to do what he was doing), **Leah6**, **Rachel A. Prongs** (*cough* you'll see that later), **Sarmi**, **Amynoelle** (you probably will wind up wanting to hurt him after what he does to Luna), **Pretto** (thanks!), **Mistress Desdemona**, **Lil-frankie14**, **danielerin** (I don't think mischeivous is a word Hermione would use for being too mild), **piper-h-99**, **Rita Skeeter** (plenty of angst in this one, but I shan't say on for who), **Anarane Anwamane**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Sheilalein** (are you suggesting I hook up Ron with Draco? ^_~), and **mdemanatee **for taking the time to leave reviews. ^_^ I really enjoyed reading them. As for everyone asking about when Draco is going to appear -- later.   



	11. Chapter Eleven : Plots

  
**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Eleven : Plots**

Ginny was perched uncomfortably next to Hermione and across from Ron at dinner the next evening. She thought that it was regrettable that James and Alex could not eat with them, for it would have helped to have some genuine smiles during dinner. The conversation was rather strained at the table, with only Hermione and Mr. Lupin honestly conversing. Lord Potter would sometimes add in a few words, which would lead to Ron trying to talk to Hermione directly. More than half the time, Hermione blatantly ignored Ron to concentrate on what her husband had said. That was how it should be, but it only made Ron mad. And if Ginny were any judge of her brother's temperament, she would guess that he was near boiling by now. She wished there was a spell she could use to return her brother to his senses. 

A chair scraped from beside her, and Ginny looked up to see Hermione rising. Hermione winked at her, as if she knew that Ginny had not been following the thread of conversation. "I had offered to show Mr. Lupin our library, as we have new additions that I do not believe he has read. Would you like to come along?" 

Ginny frowned. She would dearly love to come along, but she did not know if it would be safe to leave Ron along with Lord Potter. Her brother was liable to do something supremely stupid, which would end up in him landing face-flat from a series of hexes. Trying to out-magic Lord Potter was something only an idiot would try, and Ginny hated to admit it, but her brother was in that category at the moment. "Shall we all go?" she suggested. "The more, the merrier, they say." Ginny could almost kick herself as she saw her brother leap upon that plan, while Hermione looked pained. She supposed she had a filial duty to save her brother's life, but it was hard to remember that at times like these. After Ginny had made that fatal suggestion, there was nothing anyone could do except walk to the library as one. 

Lord Potter offered his arm to Hermione, which she immediately took. They both ignored the glower they received from Ron, who had approached her with the intent of offering to escort her. He sullenly followed their lead, glaring at Lord Potter's back while looking wistfully at Hermione. Ginny repressed the urge to hex her brother into next week. It would have been nice if he had paid her some attention, especially as she was the one who had given him the excuse to go along with them to the library, although that had not been her original intent. 

"If I may, Miss Weasley," said Mr. Lupin, holding out his hand to her. "It appears that I am left to escort you to the library." 

Ginny kept a firm rein on her natural instinct to back away from him. While Mr. Lupin seemed harmless and was known as one of Lord Potter's dearest friends, he was a werewolf as well. She had always been brought up to fear them. "Thank you," she said, feeling proud that she was able to accept without the tiniest hint of a grimace. "But who shall be leading who? Do you know where the library is?" 

"I have.," he responded. "I have visited here before. Unless Hermione has rearranged everything in the house, I think I could find my way there." 

"Please, I beg you, do not mention that to her! She may take it upon herself to expand the library at the expense of other rooms or even have a new arrangement for the house with each season. She is exactly the type to do that, just to prove that she can do so." 

Mr. Lupin raised an eyebrow at that comment. "If you say so. Far be it for me to cast aspersion's on a lady's veracity." He paused, frowning slightly. Lowering his voice, he continued, "And may I comment you on the very fine line that you have been treading this whole evening?" 

"I have no idea what you are speaking about." 

"Please, Miss Weasley, do give me some credit. I could see the tension in the room this evening. Indeed, considering how thick it was, one would be hard pressed to ignore it." He smiled down at the young witch he was accompanying. "You balance honor and filial duty very well. You are truly a credit to your family." 

She shrugged her shoulders elegantly. There was no point in pretending any longer that she did not know exactly what he was talking about. At least he seemed to be a man capable of discretion, who was unlikely to call out her brother's flaws for all to see. Which was a good thing as Ron did that all by himself. "It is hard to chose between a brother and a witch who you have come to loved as a sister, so it is better to follow the path of common sense instead. I only wish that . . ." She paused, thinking it would be wrong of her to finish that sentence and malign Ron. Though frankly, he was doing enough on his own to ruin his reputation. 

"In time, he will understand," Mr. Lupin said quietly. "I do not think he would act so badly, if he were not so greatly shocked. I can understand that. Things are not how he expected them to be and everything seems upside-down." He slowed down his pace, and Ginny was forced to do the same, by reason of being on his arm. "Harry is the only child of my dearest friends, and I do want to see him happy. This situation is very awkward, and I was thinking perhaps an alliance between us might be useful." 

Ginny frowned. She hoped he was not suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. "An alliance, sir?" she asked, her voice filled with suspicion. One bad proposal was enough. She did not need another one on top of everything else that was already on her plate. 

"Ah . . . I should be more clear. Please forgive me for that. I mean an alliance between us to act as a buffer between more volatile elements in this household." He grinned wryly. "Though that mainly means you get to shadow Hermione while I do the same for Harry, to make sure they are not inconvenienced." 

The idea was a good one, though Ginny felt a twinge of guilt for even thinking of conspiring against her brother. He was a good wizard at heart, but something had made him lose his mind. It was funny to think that something was her best friend, Hermione. Hermione had never seemed interested in Ron at all, and they had not really conversed before – only argued. Yet that was back when Ron was young enough to tease the witch he liked instead of court her, so maybe she should have known better. She could not, however, in good faith let him continue to act so badly without trying to intervene. He was only bothering her friend because she had been invited to stay at Godric's Hollow – if she weren't here, he would not have come up here. And Ginny was so very grateful to Hermione for the invitation for it allowed her a chance to escape from the madness that was the planning of Fred's wedding. 

Unfortunately, there was another problem with Mr. Lupin's suggestion and that was the matter of what Mr. Lupin was. It made her skin crawl to be so close to him. She hated that. She hated the fact that she could so unthinkingly be against a person for something they had no choice in. She knew that with the Wolfsbane Potion, he was no harm to anyone, and yet she still couldn't accept him. Part of her wondered what was Hermione thinking, letting a werewolf get so close to her children. 

But another part of her admired Hermione for looking past stereotypes to see beneath. She supposed it was more natural for Hermione to do so because she wasn't raised to fear werewolves and also because she encountered such prejudice herself, being a Muggle-born. It did reflect poorly on Ginny. She could accept Muggle-borns, but not werewolves. It made it even worse that Mr. Lupin was an honorable man, and handsome to boot, and Ginny knew she would be happy to be his acquaintance if it were not for his affliction. There was only so far she could go before she clung blindly to tradition and superstitions. 

That didn't mean she couldn't try to change. 

The plan suggested by Mr. Lupin would require her to be in his presence quite often, if only to coordinate their movements. If ignorance bred fear, then there was a chance that knowledge may be able to eradicate it. Maybe by spending time with him, she would be able to improve herself and get over this irrational fear of hers. And if not – the effort had to count for something. 

"I think that your idea sounds like a very good one," she finally answered. "Though we cannot dally too long tonight." 

"No, we cannot," he agreed. "As I do not want to leave those three alone with each other either. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow, when Hermione is occupied in the nursery?" 

"Is that safe then? What will Lord Potter be doing?" 

"He will probably be with her." He smiled knowingly. "If James and Alex are anything like their father was as a child, Hermione needs all the help she can get to deal with them." 

Ginny found herself joining in on his mirth. "The same goes for if they take after their mother," she said. "Or at least that was the impression I got from speaking with Hermione's mother." 

"Somehow that does not surprise me. So is tomorrow fine? We can meet in the library and then decide if we need to move somewhere else?" Ginny nodded her head. Upon seeing her approval, Mr. Lupin once again quickened his step, anxious to catch up with the others. Ginny was glad of it. Her head was spinning enough as it was. Her companion looked downright dashing when he got that gleam in his eyes. 

She really needed to sit down. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Ginny waited patiently in the library, waiting for Mr. Lupin to arrive. It was well past the appointed hour and she was beginning to wonder if he had changed his mind. That would be out of character for him, but one never knew with a werewolf. 

Damn. There she went again. It was too bad she couldn't control her thoughts better. She felt she would like herself more if she could. 

Ginny set herself to calculating how long she ought to wait before leaving. She supposed that Mr. Lupin might have some legitimate reason for being late, so it would not do to leave as soon as the agreed upon time had passed. Besides, that would be the action of someone who was scared and frightened of a werewolf, and Ginny was determined not to be so. 

That determination was strengthened when the subject of her thoughts entered the room. For a moment, Ginny forgot to be afraid of him as she gaped at him. He was wearing a crisp, white shirt underneath a gray waistcoat. His neckcloth was an absolute disaster, but somehow that only added to his charm. His hair was slightly damp, as if he had recently exited a bath, and more than slightly messy. All of a sudden, her hands itched to straighten his neckcloth and tidy up his hair. 

"I hope you can forgive my tardy arrival, Miss Weasley," he said as he stopped in front of her. "Harry asked if I would fence with him, and I am afraid I completely lost track of the time." 

"You fence?" Ginny asked. That must have been a sight to see. She wondered if she could convince Hermione that they would very much like to watch the two men duel before violently shaking her head to clear her mind of such thoughts. That was not proper and such a request would only serve to shock her dear friend. 

"Are you feeling ill, Miss Weasley?" Mr. Lupin's face was covered by a cloud of concern. "The weather has been—" 

"I am fine, thank you for asking," she said quickly. "I was merely thinking that while we two are discussing our plans here, my brother is free to wreak havoc amongst the rest of the house." 

"Yes, which is why it would not do for us to dally overmuch," he agreed. "But I have it on good authority that we have allies in the House Elfs and I do not think your brother will be able to make his way to the nursery if they have anything to do about it." 

"That is good, but I do not wish to leave him alone for too long." Her companion looked almost injured at her words. 

"Of course. Perhaps it would be better for us to plan to meet once a day for brief interludes? So he can remain under almost constant surveillance?" 

"I hardy think that is necessary. Besides, it would not be proper—" 

"And we must keep up the semblance of propriety, no matter how far away we are from the rest of society and no matter that there is no one here who would think ill of us," Mr. Lupin finished, with bitterness seeping into his voice. 

"I . . ." she started, before deciding it might be better to change the topic. "I do not suppose you have any ideas about what we can do for our plan of attack," she said instead. 

"I do. It occurred to me last evening that your brother would hardly bother Hermione if he had another lady here that interested him." 

"Yes," she said, nodding slowly. "I think that would work. But I foresee one problem." 

"And that is?" 

"I have no idea of any lady that he fancies. None of my brothers ever divulged such information to me." A smile crossed her face. "Except for Percy about Penelope, but that was more on accident. I know I would have been happier if the news of their engagement came as a complete surprise." Shocked at what she had implied, she covered her mouth. "Oh! I did not mean—" 

"Of course not," he said. He shrugged. "I would expect that any couple to have their moments of affection, which one might inadvertently walk into. Thankfully, Harry and Hermione are discreet, which is probably more for the sake of their children than for ours." 

"I must remember to thank my godson and his brother for their existence when I see them later then," Ginny said, grinning. 

"And I as well." Again, she was struck with how dashing her companion could look. Ginny thought it was just as well that he was a werewolf. Otherwise, Hermione might think to try and play matchmaker between the two of them, and that could lead to all sorts of embarrassing situations. And she needed to pay attention as he had been speaking for several minutes – and she did not even know his topic. 

"So do you think you could do that?" her companion was saying. 

"Do what?" she asked. "I am sorry. I was not listening." 

He looked in askance at her. "I see. I was saying that your twin brothers might know of a witch that your youngest brother fancies. He did spend a bit of time with them while they were in Europe, did he not?" 

"He did," she confirmed. "And I think that is a brilliant idea." 

"Thank you." 

"Do not mention it. I am only giving credit where it is due." 

"Is it?" he asked. "There is no easy way to say this, Miss Weasley, but I would like you to know that . . . normally, I would not intrude on your visit here with your friend—" 

"It is no intrusion," she protested, waving her hands around. 

"You say that, but I can tell that you are not at your ease. One gets a sense about such things over the years. I was going to say that I plan on leaving as soon as the current situation is resolved. So you need not fear that I will overstay my welcome." 

"I am not . . ." 

"Miss Weasley. I have treated you as the intelligent witch that you are. I wish you would give me the same courtesy." 

"You wish to be treated as an intelligent witch?" she blurted out. She wished she could take back those words. Here he was, trying to reassure her and being very serious, and all she could do was to make a joke. 

He looked at her solemnly. "I am certain that you understand my meaning. So if you will excuse me, I will take my leave. Please let me know anything that you learn from your brothers." He bowed to her and turned to leave. 

"I will," she promised as she watched him leave. Ginny wished she knew how to tell him that she did not mind his presence without lying about it. Intellectually, she did not. In addition, there was a part of her who was intensely curious and wanted to learn more about him. Unfortunately, deep down inside here was the little girl who had been raised to be terrified of werewolves. So saying she wanted him to stay would not exactly be a lie, she supposed, but it would be false enough that she did not think it wise to say. 

Ginny sighed. There was nothing she could do for now. Maybe one day, it would not be a lie at all. She would have to work on that. In the mean time, she would find her brother and make sure that he was not involved in making mischief. 

Actually, she would have to make sure that she was perfectly capable of managing the mischief he was currently planning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

As Harry entered the nursery, two whirling bodies tackled him. "Ouch," he said as both his legs were clung to fiercely. He hadn't much hope of freeing himself from the death grips his sons had on him. 

"Do you need some help there?" Hermione asked. She smiled at his predicament. "I don't think you will be able to move like that." 

Well, it might be difficult, but he could not let that assumption go unchallenged. "I beg to differ." He took one step, then another. It was hard work, trying to walk when his legs were hindered but he could do it, albeit in a rather ridiculous fashion. 

"I hardly call that walking," Hermione noted, as if she had read his mind. She stepped forward to meet him, dropping a kiss on his cheek, before bending over to try and pull his sons off. "Come on now. Your Papa loves you, but wouldn't it be more fun if he were free to play with you?" She was able to convince James to release his hold with that reasoning, as he grinned and threw his arms around his mama's neck. She lifted him up and face Harry. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to deal with Alex," she said. 

"Thanks. Some help you were." 

"I have half a mind to let James go at you again." 

"Please don't," he groaned. "That would be cruel. I am still sore from practicing with Remus this morning." 

"And that shall doubtlessly be your excuse for your weakness now." 

"It is not fair to call my actions weak, Hermione. I did manage to walk." 

"Two steps does not constitute walking," she insisted primly. Harry took a deep breath, trying to regain his senses. When she talked like that, he could hardly refrain from snogging her senseless. 

And he did not think it was a good idea to scar their children for life just yet. Or ever for that matter, though that proposition had become more difficult after James had learned how to walk. 

Happily for everyone concerned, Hermione turned her back and walked into the adjoining room, probably to put James to bed for his nap. Harry grinned. That would take some time, especially as he and Hermione were so set against using sleeping charms on their own children. That was one good thing about marrying Hermione that he hadn't considered; the fact that they were both raised by Muggles meant that their views on using magic on their children were remarkably similar. It didn't seem fair to him to use magic to make his sons fall asleep or to ensure that they were seen and not heard. Hermione, if anything, was even more adamant about that. 

Right now, however, he had to get Alex to release him before Hermione got James to settle down or he would never hear the end of it. Given the personalities of his sons, that should not be a difficult task. He looked down at his youngest son. "Alex, could you let Papa go?" he asked. The response he received was a frantic shake of Alex's head combined with the boy gripping him even more tightly. He sighed and tried again. "Papa promises to carry you instead," he offered. He bent over and sure enough, his son latched on to his arms. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry picked him up and followed his wife into their children's bedroom. 

Seeing the trouble James was causing Hermione when it came to staying in his bed, Harry thought that perhaps his youngest son had done him a favor by incapacitating him the way he did. Although Hermione might accuse him of arranging that to happen. Not that he did, but it would have been a very good idea. He would have been proud to have thought of that one. Harry deposited Alex in his bed, selected a fairly new book on Muggle fairy tales that Hermione must have recently added to the nursery library, and read from it until his son was yawning sleepily. 

As Harry got up and tiptoed away from Alex, he was once again tackled around the legs. He looked down and suppressed a groan. Evidently, James had completely broken away from Hermione and had decided to go and bother his Papa. 

"Next time, you can take care of him from the start," Hermione said. She looked exhausted, and Harry was struck with concern. "That would only be fair because he so clearly takes after your side of the family." 

"I seem to remember your mother saying otherwise," he remarked as he hefted his son up and strode over to the other bed. "I can take care of them," he said. "You look a little tired." 

"I am not that tired." Her lie was revealed when she suddenly yawned. 

"I can see that." Turning to James, he scolded him, "Now look here, young man! You have completely worn your Mama out." The little rascal only looked delighted as if he had received a compliment, and Harry could feel his patience beginning to evaporate. Normally, that would not happen but he was worried about Hermione. He wished his sons were old enough to understand that they had to behave better when their mother was pregnant because she was more fragile then. Although, he supposed even if they could understand that, he would be left with another predicament: how to communicate that without arousing his wife's ire. 

Harry set James down in his bed and then pulled the covers over him. A stern look was needed to prevent James from throwing his blankets off. "Would you like me to read for you, like I did Alex?" he asked. 

James shook his head no. "Want Mama to read," he said. 

"Your Mama is tired," Harry replied. 

"I am not that tired," Hermione said as she took a seat beside him. She yawned again. "Though saying that seems to cause me to yawn." She looked at her husband, asking with her eyes for him to get her a book. He got up, crossed the room, and returned with the nursery's copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. It amused him to think that his sons would know more about Hogwarts when they first arrived than most seventh years. 

He had to keep thinking about that to not laugh at the fact that his wife's favorite book was the absolute best reading material when it came to boring their children to sleep. 

Once James had finally started to sleep, Harry took the book from his wife's unresisting hands. "Time to put you to bed," he said. 

"But I have so many things do to," she protested. 

"You can do them later," he replied. 

"But—" 

He placed a kiss on her lips. "Enough. Time for bed." Harry was surprised when she leaned forward to kiss him passionately. 

"Time for bed is right," she said and he knew that her mood had changed. Her moods had a tendency to swing these days, and lately she was more amorous than usual. 

Not that he had any problems with that. Aside from the fact that their room was too far away. 

But thankfully, the house did not lack for any number of unoccupied rooms.   
  
  
  


**Author's note:** That is all for next chapter. I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a rev iew to let me know what you thought of it. I should be updating within the next two weeks -- I *might* be switching to updating this fic every other week so I can write more _Jane_ as well. Anyway, thanks to **Rebeca**, **Randy**, **crisisfan**, **Leah6**, **Erik MacRorie** (thank you. I tend to stay away from AU fics myself, but this one insisted on being written), **Sarmi**, **Anarane Anwamane**, **Sheilalein** (no, it's whenever _he_ decides to grace this fic with his presence), **Bladefanatic**, **Amynoelle** (no, Ron doesn't have that much sense but plotting against her own brother gives Ginny something to do), **nienie** (alas, Luna won't get that kind of Ron in this fic), **Lil-frankie14**, **Fire Lily**, **Romm**, **AnImEfReAk81**, **harrys girl5** (why do people always think I'm going to break them up? Since when have I done that?), **Quis**, **Muse**, **Jabba1**, **HG Wannabe** (yes, he'll be in this fic in his own due time), **MasterDeath**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Rita Skeeter**, **Marshes to Banks** (no reconciliation in sight in this fic), **malu** (yes, it is very selfish of him, but he's not really thinking right now. He's lucky that Harry hasn't tossed him out, but he shouldn't really press his luck too far), **Rachel A. Prongs**, **Mistress Desdemona** (Hermione's more likely to avoid him as she really doesn't like him. She probably never well under this scenario), **belle** (yes, that would upset everyone, wouldn't it?), **Izabel**, **Zekintha**, **myman-harry526**, **sisterhood-of-the-snake**, **piper-h-9**, **keeper of the heart**, **PrincessME**, **Pretto**, **DiezeL** (I'm glad to hear you watched the adaptation, but the books are much, much better), **Noriko M. Chijinu**, **Animagus-Steph** (think Colonel Brandon), and **Falling **for taking the timet to review the last chapter. ^_^ I honestly do appreciate it so much. The reviews were lots of fun to read and I liked seeing what you had to say. 


	12. Chapter Twelve : Arrivals

**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   


**Chapter Twelve : Arrivals**

Ron stalked through the hallways as he searched for the library. Somehow, he was never able to find a house elf who could give him proper directions. And this house of Harry's was too damn large. How could anyone feel comfortable living here when empty rooms outnumbered people by more than ten to one? 

When Ron finally reached the library, he cursed. He could tell from the books that was strewn on the table that he had just missed someone. That someone was likely to have been Hermione, if she was anything like the girl she used to be. She was always one for reading. It drove Ron mad sometimes, how she could spend so much time with books and so little time paying attention to him. And he did so much to try and attract her attention, but he got no results. 

Of course, even if he did, he supposed Potter's actions made it a moot point. Ron had been sorely tempted to curse Harry when he had finally learned what had happened that season so long ago. He didn't even give Hermione a choice. He was a bloody earl, for goodness' sake. Hermione couldn't have refused him, given that she had no other options, otherwise she would have been the laughingstock of the ton. If only Ron had been there. He would have courted her. She would have known that she wouldn't be condemned to spinsterhood if she refused Harry. And perhaps she would have. Perhaps knowing that another man wanted her would have given her the strength to say no to a marriage that was so wrong for her. 

Because Ron knew Harry and he knew Hermione, though most of what he knew had been filtered through Ginny. Harry needed a warm, loving wife. He not only wanted but needed to have children, as there was his title to think of. Hermione could be a warm, loving wife, but she had always been more independent. It would not have been her first choice to be beholden to a man who expected sons and soon at that. Hell! For proof of that, you only had to look at what she had done after leaving Hogwarts. She had tried to find herself a teaching position, instead of heading straight to London to find a husband. Ron knew that if it weren't for Harry that Hermione might have succeeded McGonagall as Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. Unfortunately for her, she was pregnant with her second child at the time, if he had the math right. 

What hurt most of all was that he never had a chance with her thanks to his best friend. Ron couldn't remember when he first fancied Hermione; it was probably after some lecture she gave him on proper behavior when she was Head Girl. But he would have cherished her for always if he had the opportunity. He would have treated her right. He would have agreed to a long engagement, instead of a short one that raised the eyebrows of everyone around. Maybe it would have been long enough for her to accept that teaching position at Hogwarts. And he would not have minded the fact that his fiancée was a professor. Nay, he would have encouraged her in her academic pursuits, unlike Potter who couldn't get her with child fast enough. 

In short, he would have given her everything that she had ever wanted so long as he got her. 

It was exceedingly tragic that he never was able to make her that offer. His current offer to her was no where near as generous. There wasn't much he could do as she had gone and married the bastard, and divorces were not easy to come by. And Potter wouldn't give her one anyway, he wasn't that much of a man. But Ron desperately needed to let her know that she had a choice, that there were others who were interested in her. 

And if that made Potter's marriage a hell – well, he had made his bed when he left without warning Ron at all. If Hermione did admit to returning Ron's love, Potter would get to reap the consequences of his actions. 

* * *

Ginny quickly tucked away the letter Hermes had delivered before anyone else could see it. How her brothers had managed to steal Percy's owl to send even a single letter eluded her. She just hoped that there were no nasty surprises included in the letter, as the twins were wont to include. A first time recipient of a letter from one of the twins was oft the brunt of a prank. She and Ron had once agreed that they would rather receive a Howler from Mum, than a letter from Fred and George, as that would be less embarrassing. 

Later on that morning, after she had carefully checked the letter for any signs of magical mischief, she opened it in her room to read. 

_To My Dearest, Most Darling Little Sister—_

Ginny snorted to herself. She was Fred's only little sister, so she wondered at his hyperbole. 

_It is so good of you to look after ickle Ronniekins. After I got your owl, I was tempted to head off myself to help you with him, but alas! Angelina disagreed most strenuously with that proposition. And she tells me to let you know that she'll accept sweets as thanks for that favor, though I hardly would call it a favor. It is more like a disfavor._

Ginny rolled her eyes and made a mental note to thank Angelina later. The last thing she needed here was more of her brothers to mess things up. One was enough, thank you very much.__

_In any case, of course I am more than happy to help you in ensuring Ron's eternal happiness. Though I suppose you'll have much trouble with that, given how dense he is. I think the best course of action is to supply a love potion—Ow! Damn it! Excuse me, Angelina just hit me._

Inwardly, Ginny cheered Angelina on. How did her brother manage to chose a witch who was so perfectly capable of reining him in? Mum ought to be thanking her lucky stars that Angelina agreed to have Fred, though Ginny knew many would assume it was the other way around, given Angelina's age. It was almost enough to make her think that perhaps she wouldn't be a spinster forever. 

Ginny returned to the letter and realized that the handwriting had changed to a neater, more feminine hand. Angelina must have taken the Recording Quill away from Fred when he started acting up. 

_Sorry for the interruption, Ginny, but Fred was being impossible again. And yes, I can hear you now. Being impossible is his ground state, and I am inclined to agree with you. Anyway . . . yes, yes, Fred, I will tell her. Fred recommends Miss. Padma Patil, who Ron once escorted to a ball, or Miss Cho Chang, as they could both talk about their grudges against Lord Potter. I heartily recommend you ignore that advice . . . and don't bother trying to look as if you're crying. That trick won't work on me.___

_If you ask me, I would recommend that you attempt to turn Ron's affections to Miss Luna Lovegood. The girl has always been absolutely mad about him—_

Here, Ginny winced. She thought Luna had been always a bit touched period. 

_—but he never paid her any heed. She was at the Burrow when he arrived and was most distressed when he left again. I am certain that she would accept an invitation to visit Godric's Hollow. As for getting Ron to notice her, I would think that the three capable witches ought to be enough to do so. If you find that you cannot, let me know. She is one of my bridesmaids, and Fred was going to ask Ron to be one of those who stand with him. If that is not an opportunity for matchmaking, then I do not know what is._

Ginny grinned as the handwriting changed once again, as Fred must have finally wrestled the quill away from his fiancée.__

_Finally! Oh good, Angelina did have the quill write down what I said. She wouldn't let me see and I had thought she had crossed it out. Though she shouldn't have recommended Loony Lovegood for Ron will never go for her. She's much better off trying for someone else. But there you have it! All of our ideas about witches for Ron. I wish you much luck.___

_Fred___

_P.S. You owe me, Ginny. Your darling brothers were going to include a spell to make you turn into a tortoise. He better not think that he will be able to experiment on our children, like he has tried to experiment on all his siblings. My most sincere regards, A.J._

Angelina definitely was going to get something nice in the owl post from her, Ginny decided. Folding up the letter, she pondered how best to go about getting Hermione to invite one of those witches. Deciding that it would be better to get another opinion on the whole matter, she set out to find Mr. Lupin. 

She first checked the library, as he was often found there. That had to be one of the reasons why Hermione enjoyed inviting him to visit, as he loved books nearly as much as she. Seeing that he wasn't there, she turned her steps towards Lord Potter's study, wondering if the two men could be conversing. Once there, she looked at a locked door and winced. She couldn't very well knock, now could she? It wouldn't be proper. Not that she gave a damn what society thought – one nice thing about being off the shelf – but still. Especially with Ron around. If he saw her, he would assume that she was pining after Hermione's husband and that was hardly the case. 

Ginny wandered off, not sure of where to check next. She tried the kitchen and the dining room, but both were empty. She could not think of where else he could be, when suddenly, she ran in Hermione. 

"Ginny!" Hermione smiled, but Ginny could tell her friend was feeling a bit tired. "How are you doing?" 

"I am fine. And you? I was concerned when I heard that you were too unwell for breakfast," said Ginny. 

"Oh. I am much better now." Hermione sighed. "There are times when I still am ill in the mornings, that is all. But are you looking for something?" She suddenly grinned wickedly. "Or perhaps someone? Like another guest?" Hermione winked. 

Dear Merlin. Ginny realized that Hermione was trying to set her up with Mr. Lupin. Whatever gave her the idea that . . . Ginny recalled some of the conversations she had with Hermione on how she didn't want anyone safe and boring. Hermione must have thought that Mr. Lupin would be perfect for her – sensible but not safe. Ginny tried to appreciate the thought, but it didn't do much for her self-esteem to think that her best friend thought a werewolf would do for her. 

And to make matters worse, she was looking for Mr. Lupin. But if she said so, Hermione would take it to mean her plan was succeeding when it was most definitely not. To be sure, Mr. Lupin was a fine gentleman who was helping her with a difficult problem – and he was certainly not unattractive . . . but Ginny was not interested. Or at least, she wasn't interested most of the time. 

Ginny sighed. Her choices were not appealing. She could either ask where Mr. Lupin was or wait for later. She did not much like waiting. Of course, there was a third choice and that was to trust Angelina's advice and invite Luna. She had taken the question seriously, which was more than could be said for Fred. 

It wasn't that bad of an option. 

Ginny took a deep breath before beginning. "Actually, I was looking for you Hermione," she said. "I was remembering what you said about your table being unbalanced and . . ." 

"And? Is there someone you would like to see?" 

"Yes, very much." Ginny thought how she should phrase this. She originally had not planned to let Hermione know of her plot to set someone else up with Ron, but if that made Hermione switch her matchmaking to her brother . . . well, that ought to be a good thing. "I was wondering if you would like to invite Miss Luna Lovegood. Oh, I suppose you hardly knew her in school, but she was in the same year as me so we shared some classes together." 

"And you would like to see her again?" Hermione finished. "I would be happy to invite her, but perhaps it would be better if we send out the owl together. As you said, I hardly knew her." 

"That is not necessary, I assure you. She will accept," said Ginny. "Especially as she knows Ron is here," she added in a whisper Hermione was meant to overhear. Ginny saw the smile that graced Hermione's face before she could conceal it and knew that Hermione got the hint. 

Which was good. Because she didn't need anyone to match make for her. She was perfectly happy being a spinster. While Mr. Lupin was interesting and charming and she did want to get to know him better, that was only because she wanted to improve herself and get over her senseless fear. And not for any other reason. 

* * *

Draco Malfoy languidly regarded the list his mother had handed to him at the breakfast table in his London town house. "What, pray tell, is this?" he asked sharply. 

Narcissa rolled her eyes at her son's intransigence. "That is a list of all the eligible witches who are suitable to be the next Mrs. Malfoy," she told him. "You have returned to England to get married, have you not?" 

"I hardly think they are suitable, Mother," he said. "I will not marry a chit just out of the schoolroom." 

"If that is how you feel, then you ought to have returned sooner, like I asked," she responded. "All the other pureblood witches are now taken and are more or less happily married." She regarded her son sternly. "You are not planning on arranging any accidents, are you? For I remind you that our standing is not what it once was, and there is no longer any room for leniency for Malfoys in the Ministry." 

"I know that." He tossed the list back at her. "I do not need this, in any case. I have already picked the witch I am going to marry." 

"Would you care to share this with the rest of us?" Narcissa asked, her tone an echo of the one her son took only a few moments ago. 

"Why of course, Mother. My bride will be none other than Miss Virginia Weasley." 

**Author's note:** A little short, but I hope the ending should make up for it. Anyway, I hope you liked it and would appreciate it if you'd let me know what you think by leaving a review. Finally, I'd like to thank **danielerin**, **Amynoelle**, **Erik MacRorie**, **Rachel A. Prongs**, **Izabel**, **Jabba1**, **kristi**, **myman-harry526**, **charlotte**, **juliet's rose**, **Quis**, **malu**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Sheilalein**, **Anarane Anwamane**, **lee74**, **SlythsRule**, **Salmon Steak**, **Galadriel Hermione Potter**, **Romm**, **AnImEfReAk81**, **Pinku-koneko**, **Jade121**, **Animagus-Steph**, **CookiMonstr08**, **shattered**, **Bladefanatic**, **hentai-gigi**, **Naia**, and **waking dark **for their reviews of the last chapter. It was really interesting to read what you all had to say. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen : Plans

  
**Seasons of Love**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.   


**Chapter Thirteen : Plans**

Hermione bounced back to her study after her meeting with Ginny. What a brilliant idea that Ginny had to invite another witch for Ron. Though she could have just come out and told Hermione that she thought Miss Lovegood would be a good match for Ron. Hermione didn't know the reasoning behind that, but she was willing to accept her friend's suggestion. Ginny ought to know her brother better than she. 

And that must have been why Ginny had not been frank about the matter, now that Hermione thought about it. She sighed. Poor Ginny. It must be hard, trying to restrain her brother from making advances on her married best friend. Hermione harbored no doubts that Ginny had recognized the tension that had arisen from Mr. Weasley's arrival. He had been most clear about where his affection was, and she thought she had been equally clear about what she thought about such affection. Hermione desperately hoped   
that the solution that Ginny presented her would work out. 

The only problem facing her now was how to properly invite Miss Lovegood to visit. Hermione hardly knew the girl. She thought that she had once taken points from Ravenclaw for something Miss Lovegood had done, but she could not remember what. She nibbled on the edge of her quill as she tried to remember the incident. It was something about frightening first years with scary stories . . . but aside from that, she could not recall the details. But taking points from someone while they were at Hogwarts was hardly a basis for an invitation to her house thankfully for otherwise the house would be swimming with guests. 

Aside from that incident, her only connection with Miss Lovegood was through Ginny. That could be used as a basis for an invitation. Hermione could write that Ginny had asked that she invite Miss Lovegood as another companion for her. That had a grain of truth in it. Ginny hadn't asked her in so many words, but she came pretty close. And Hermione knew that she wasn't always the best of company, especially in the last week, and so Ginny might like to have another female companion at Godric's Hollow. Nodding to herself, Hermione settled on that course of action. Now the only thing that remained was to arrange for a portkey to transport Miss Lovegood to the manor, should she decide to accept the invitation. 

That and the small matter of finding an appropriate room. Sighing, Hermione rose to her seat. She preferred to be prepared if she had a choice. Hence, it behooved her to find a room to house Miss Lovegood in before sending that owl to her.

* * *

"Miss Weasley?" Narcissa repeated. She blinked. Surely, she must have heard her son wrong.

"Yes, Miss Weasley," Draco replied. "She comes from a long line of pureblood wizards and witches. That in and of itself makes her an acceptable Malfoy bride." 

"Yes, but her father is barely a gentleman. I know many who would not use that term for him. And her connections are—" 

"Impeccable. Her family is well-regarded, much as ours used to be. She is reputed to be a close friend to Lady Potter—" 

"Who is a Mudb . . . a Muggle-born," his mother reminded him, remembering the proper term at the last minute. She grimaced, knowing that there were ears everywhere and that she should watch what she said better.   
  
"I know. But Muggle-born or not, one must admit that she holds a high position in our society." He regarded his mother. "Father may have chosen a losing side in the war, Mother, but that is no reason for us to suffer the consequences of his choice forever. I have every intention of restoring the Malfoy name back to its former glory." He sipped from his cup of tea before continuing. "And if marrying that Weasley bint is what I have to do to accomplish it, then so be it." 

* * *

Hermione wandered over to her desk, taking from it a map of the manor, to peruse the rooms. She had to find an appropriate room, preferably in a shorter amount of time than it took her to find Ginny's. It was easy enough to eliminate all the rooms that were still closed. From those that were left, she selected one that was close to her friend's. If her excuse for inviting Miss Lovegood was that Ginny wanted another companion, then she ought to give Miss Lovegood a room near Ginny. That only made sense. She sent off a note to Dobby to have the linens changed and the closet aired out, before turning to her second task – that of setting a portkey.

The Potter household had several portkeys that were already made, but remained inactivated. The challenge was in setting the user and the window of time that the portkey would be functional. Hermione pulled out her wand. Theoretically, it should not take her that long to set the spell, but it would not do to cast it thoughtlessly. One wrong wand movement could completely ruin the portkey. Her brow wrinkling as she mentally calculated the harmonics necessary to attune it, she carefully traced her wand in the pattern needed over the portkey. 

Of course her husband would come in just as she put down her wand. 

"Hermione," he said, with a frown. "Is that a portkey?" 

"Yes," she replied. "I thought I would invite Miss Lovegood here as company for Ginny. Do you mind?" 

"Of course not," he said, pushing that aside. He walked over to the desk, stopping in front of her. "But I thought the Mediwitch said that you ought not use any transportation magic at all while you are with child." 

"Yes, she did say that. But I was not using the portkey, merely setting it. There is a difference you know," Hermione reasoned out loud. 

Harry stared at her silently for several moments, letting her know that he wasn't buying it. "Please Hermione. The next time you need a portkey, let me handle it." 

She huffed, feeling perturbed. "I am not an—" 

"I know. I . . . I do not want to take any chances, that is all," he said gently. 

"I am sorry. I was excited about having a balanced table again." 

"You were?" Harry was surprised. He knew that like most ladies, Hermione preferred to have the same numbers of ladies as there were gentlemen at her table, but she never fretted about it overly much. 

"Yes. Ginny suggested that Miss Lovegood could be placed across from Mr. Weasley," Hermione said. That was a hint that Harry could not ignore. 

"You intend to set up Miss Lovegood with Mr. Weasley?" 

"I never said that." 

"But you do intend to do that." 

* * *

"What makes you think that she will have you?" Narcissa asked, intent on getting her son to see sense. "From what I heard, you and she were never friendly at school."

"No, we were not. Quite the opposite, in fact." He grimaced, as if recalling a painful incident. "But Miss Weasley is a spinster. She will hardly get a better offer. She is lucky that I am condescending to make an offer for her. How could she refuse?" 

"That is not the way to a lady's heart." 

"Who says I want her heart?" He shrugged eloquently. 

"Knowing her parents is one reason that you might wish to reconsider your plan," Narcissa stated. "They were always strange and insisted that marrying for love was the only way to go. I am willing to bet that her mother—" 

"I've already told you that what matters to me is the fact that their standing is good in the Wizarding world today." 

"—probably filled young Miss Weasley's head with grand notions of love," she pressed on. "I could see Molly doing exactly that, despite the fact that it would make her daughter more likely to refuse decent offers of marriage." 

"Again, I note that spinsters cannot afford to be romantics. At her age, Miss Weasley must be practical, if she ever wants to have her own household. And I have more to offer her than her family." He took another small drink, finishing his tea. "By the way, Mother, I intend on leaving tonight, so if I were you, I would start packing." 

* * *

Harry paused to consider the notion. His memories of Miss Lovegood at school were vague. He had the impression that she was a sweet but strange girl, who was always hanging around. Though she seemed more interested in Ron than in him, which was a welcome relief. "I think that might work," said Harry. "If we can get Ron to notice her."

Hermione squealed. "I am so happy you agree, my love. And it is yet another chance for me to try to match make." She clasped her hands together excitedly. 

"Another chance?" Harry blinked, wondering what she could be referring to. Then he thought of his other guests. "You think that Miss Weasley will do for Remus?" he asked. 

"Do you not think it neat? For our son's godmother to marry his godfather? It will be the next best thing to having an aunt and uncle." 

"Yes, I suppose . . . but I never thought Remus the marrying type." 

"Not everyone gets marries as young as you, Harry," Hermione said. "If anything, you are the exception, not the rule." 

He smiled fondly at her. "I was not about to take the chance that some other man might snag you. Besides, I have not heard any complaints from you." 

"That is because I have none." She leaped up from her chair and latched on to his arm. "So? What do you think of the second match? Though it really is the first I planned." 

Harry sighed. He thought it best to be honest, despite the fact that Hermione would not like his answer. "I do not think it is well-thought out, Hermione. Remus is a very private man and Ginny is . . . well, she can be very gregarious. He is too reserved for her, I believe." 

"Have you not noticed how much time they spend in each other's company?" Hermione asked. "When I came upon her earlier today, I thought that she was searching for Remus, though she would not admit it. And she makes a good counterpoint to Remus, I believe." 

"There is still the matter of his . . . transformations." 

"I am certain," Hermione said, "that once Ginny grows more accustomed to him and they trust each other more, that it will be almost a relief for Remus to have someone to share that with." 

"I do not think that he wants to share that with anyone," Harry said softly. 

"He does not currently," Hermione agreed. "But with time, their closeness will be such that he will without thinking." 

"No, Hermione," Harry said sadly. "There are some things . . . some things that are so painful that you do not wish to share them. Because sharing them would not halt the pain, but only spread it. And so the best you can do is keep it to yourself and forget it." 

Hermione took a step back away from him. "You speak as though . . . Harry! Is there some secret that you have been keeping from me?" 

"I . . ." He ran his hands through his hair. He had so many secrets that he kept from her, all of them dealing with that period of time when they were at Hogwarts. It wasn't that he didn't love her enough or didn't trust her enough. He simply didn't want to share them, to speak them aloud, as that would make them even more real. 

Unfortunately, Hermione was smart enough to take his silence as an affirmative. "I thought you loved me better than that," she said, her chin trembling. 

"Hermione, I do! This has nothing to do with how much I love you!" he said urgently. 

She sidestepped his attempt to embrace her. "If you excuse me, sir, I have a few matters to arrange." With a swish of her skirts, she exited the room, leaving Harry behind. 

* * *

"Leave? Tonight? But where are we going?" Narcissa asked.

Her son looked down his nose at her. "Mother! I thought you kept up with your gossip better than that. Miss Weasley is currently staying at Godric's Hollow with the Potters." 

"I know that," she said. "I was not aware you were able to get an invitation either from Lord Potter or his wife." 

"No. But I have the next best thing." There was a smug smirk on his face. "I won a nearby estate from Boots last night at the table." Draco now smiled in glee. "Whatever it is that they teach Ravenclaws, it is not about the basic tenets of gambling." 

"Draco," she said reproachfully. "I thought I told you that was a shamefully bad habit that—" 

"Is shared by every other gentleman in London. And it is only a bad habit if you lose, which I never do." His jaw set with determination, he went on, "I do not intend to start losing now. So if you excuse me, Mother, I am going to make sure the elfs packed everything I need. You are free to come if you wish." He stood up and left the table. 

Narcissa cursed after he had left. That wretched boy! Of course she would go. Miss Weasley would not have been her choice of an appropriate wife for her son, but she had one thing going for her. And that was the apparent ability of the females of her family to have lots and lots of sons. 

It would only serve Draco right to have to raise seven sons that were exactly like him. 

****

**Author's note:** That's it for now. I hope you liked it and I'd appreciate if you could let me know what you think by leaving a review. Also, I'd like to thank **danielerin**, **lynn joe**, **Marshes to Banks** (oddly enough, this Draco is truer to canon than ones in my other fics), **Eric MacRorie**, **Jade** (Yes, well, there will be a problem with that), **Jabba1** (of course there's more between them--read chapter one), **lee74**, **Yoshida Megumi**, **malu** (well, Hermione hasn't had much luck with matchmaking so far--she expected a proposal by now, but perhaps her own story has given her an unrealistic view of things), **Leah6**, **LeslieGlady**, **Bladefanatic**, **juliet's rose **(I use dividers--but I didn't know ff.net was taking my asterisks out. sigh Thanks for telling me, otherwise, I'd have never known), **Amynoelle**, **myman-harry526**, **ears91**, **Zekintha **(you've must not have read many Regencies if you think _ton _is a misspelling. It's not. ), **kiwi** (Col. Brandon much?), **Rachel A. Prongs**, **sisterhood-of-the-snake**, **CookiMonstr08** (the question is, will it be too late once Ron gets back on track), **Romm** (no, not sight unseen--and he has been mentioned in passing once before), **Anarane Anwamane**, **mikeus**, **mariel4000**, **AnImEfReAk81** (yes it was), **PoTtErSPaYnE** (I never promised any particular Ron pairing), **Pinku-koneko**, **HHromancefreak**, **Falling**, **Sheilalein**, **Quis** (Have I mentioned that this Ron tends to be stubborn?), **waking dark**, **footloose-talula**, **GryphonStar07**, **Thomas**, **Ashley K**, and **summersheat** (am glad you enjoyed it ) for their reviews of the last chapter. Sorry for the wait for this one. I hope the next one will be up sooner, but I can't make any promises, since it seems I've too many fics on my plate.


	14. Chapter Fourteen : Confessions

**Seasons of Love **

**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen : Confessions**

Dinner had been horrid. Hermione had not spoken to her husband throughout it, which unfortunately encouraged Mr. Weasley in his advances. As a result, she wound up shackled to Ginny's side, which wasn't a good way to encourage a romance between her and Remus. Normally, she would attach herself to her husband as a means of escape, but she didn't want to do that now. Not after learning that he didn't trust her as much as she thought. She had managed to make her escape soon after the last course had been placed on the table, complaining of a headache. Everyone had been solicitous of her and had been all too ready to excuse her. Hermione had taken her chance and fled to her room.

Yet now, as she waited in bed for sleep to come, she realized her mistake. She had not fled to her room, but their room. The one they shared. The one she had always slept in ever since her marriage. Hermione had her own chambers nearby, but she had never used them. She had standing orders with the House Elfs for them to dust the room twice a month, though she thought it was a waste. Hermione was so tempted to leave this room and go to that one. She didn't feel as if she were ready to face Harry at this juncture. Her pain at his lack of faith in her was too new, too fresh for her to want to have to face him and any apology he might try to make. And she didn't want to worry about the secrets he was keeping from her and what they might mean to their relationship.

At the same time, however, she thought it would be a bad precedent to make. They had always shared the same bed, even when they were quarreling. But she had never been hurt so bad by him as she was earlier. And it was so hard for her to hold back her tears, when she thought of everything she had lost just a few short hours ago.

Hearing the doorknob turn, Hermione closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She didn't want to leave, but she didn't want to have to see him, to have to speak with him either. She heard Harry softly tread into the room and was glad that he didn't leave right away. She heard the familiar rustling of him changing out of his clothes. The bed shifted towards his end as he climbed into it, taking his place beside her. He sighed heavily, before turning to place a kiss on her forehead. "I love you," he whispered gently.

Hermione opened her eyes to look at him. "I know that, Harry," she said. "I know." She focused her attention at the curtains behind him. She knew he loved her, but she also knew that he didn't love her as much as she loved him. It shouldn't hurt so much, that piece of knowledge. It shouldn't hurt to know that he wasn't as attached as she was, she should be happy with what she had, but . . . she wasn't.

"Hermione . . . about earlier. Those memories, they aren't happy. Far from it. The opposite, in fact. So please don't—"

"I don't think I want to have this conversation again, Harry. I fear it will only upset me." She turned away from him, leaving him speaking to her back. She didn't need her heart to be broken twice by the man she loved in one day.

"Hermione. I . . . I only want to spare you the pain," he said pleadingly.

"Spare me pain?" She laughed bitterly. "How chivalrous of you. But you have an odd way of going about that."

"Hermione." He settled his hand on her shoulder. "How many times do I have to say it? These are not things you want to know, trust me."

"How do you know that?" she asked. "And why should I trust you when you so blatantly do not trust me?"

"I do trust you," he said, his voice rising in volume. "I trust you more than anyone else in this world. I—"

"If I am the person you trust most in the world, you must lead a sad, sad life. For you do not trust me at all."

"Hermione." This time, his voice was not as gentle. He pulled her to face him. "How can you say that?"

If he had been expecting to see tears, he was disappointed. Hermione was no longer on the verge of those, but rather she was growing angry. Angry at the fact that he did not only not trust her, but he couldn't be honest about it. "How can I not say it? There is nothing that I hide from you. I have always been honest with you. You, however, have not done the same with me. You have your secrets and you have your pain – and you hide them all away from me, pretending to love me and—"

"Do not ever say that I am merely pretending to love you." His eyes glittered in the darkness. "I love you more than you could possibly know."

"I find your love to be a pale, weak thing if you cannot trust me," she said.

"You are being unreasonable here. My secrets, they are not like your secrets. They're darker than yours, more painful than yours. And I do not know how you would see me if you knew."

Hermione, however, only heard the first part of his words. "That's a lovely assumption to make. I like how you degrade my painful memories, as if they are of no consequence—"

"Hermione! I never said that!"

"But then everything that I went through during those years could hardly compare to everything that happened to the Boy-Who-Lived," she continued, ignoring his protest. "I suppose Mr. Weasley was right about you in that regard."

Hermione knew she had gone too far with that statement, but she was past the point of caring. Harry got up from the bad, mustering all the dignity that he had. "If that is your sentiment, my lady," he said. "Then I will take my leave. I am sure that Ron will be more than willing to entertain you here." He turned to exit the room, but before he could take a single step, Hermione had grabbed his pillow and threw it at him, hitting him squarely in his back.

"You bastard!" she raged. "I don't want him or anyone else I want you! I want you to love me like I love you, to trust me like I trust you, to need me like I need you. But you don't and you can't and you don't even care that—" To Hermione's absolute horror, she couldn't continue for she was gasping for air.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, and in the blink of an eye, he was by her side. "Love, calm down. It's not good for the baby for you to be so—"

"And don't you dare patronize me as if I were some child!" she shouted at him, swatting his hands away from her. "Because there's little that I hate more than that, but for all your confessions of love, that's exactly how you treat me, and you don't know how much it hurts when you don't trust me." Hermione had to stop there, once again needing the pause so she could breathe. Somehow or another, she started to hiccup and she couldn't hold her breath to stop them, for she was out of breath as it was.

"Hermione, I trust you. I do." Harry took a deep breath. "But I don't want to upset you, especially not now, when you're with child."

"You're doing a bloody bad job of that!" Hermione told him in between hiccups.

"I know," he said quietly, as if to himself. "But I did not think it would do you good to know that you had married a murderer."

That stopped her hiccups. She stared at him. "I cannot fathom how you would think that I did not know how things ended. Of course, I know that you killed that . . . that thing. And I know you had no choice, for otherwise it would have been you who had died."

Harry smiled grimly. "That's a nice tale to tell small children, isn't it? But I am afraid that's not the truth. Dumbledore wouldn't risk the life of a student like that, if he had any say in the matter. The truth is that Voldemort was trapped, lured into a sense of false security after Dumbledore's death, never sensing the spell the old man had laid to strip him of his defenses, leaving him vulnerable to the sleeping draught that Snape had slipped him the night before." Hermione stared at Harry. She had never seen him in a mood like this that was almost macabre. He spoke as if he hated himself. "And yes, your logic has lead you to the right conclusion. I killed Voldemort in his sleep. And no, you can't pretty it up by saying that wasn't the way I would have chosen for it to have ended. I was dead scared that I was going to die that night. To be given the chance to end it all without having to risk my life – I took it gladly."

"I . . . ." Hermione started to say, but trailed off. She hadn't expected such a grisly confession from him. It made her understand why he wanted to keep it from her. Yet at the same time, she didn't love him any less.

If it were possible, she loved him even more, for having to go through that, to carry that additional burden – and then being brave enough to try and share it with her.

"I still love you," she said when she finally found her voice. "It's not a thing to be proud of, what you just said. It makes more sense now, the way you never want to be thanked for it." She sighed. "And it's a bit sad, to think that you had to be his executioner like that. For make no mistake, he deserved to die. Not for what he had done, though plenty would have been happy to kill him for that, but rather for what he would have done." She smiled up at him hesitantly. "I would not be here today if you hadn't done that. And I'm so sorry that you had to do that for all of us. Truly I am."

"I don't want you to be sorry for me. I'm not. I—"

"Then perhaps you should be. I think it's all too easy for you to be too hard on yourself." Hermione tugged at his arm, trying to pull him in to bed with her. "Please," she said. "I want to hold you when we talk."

"You didn't want to a few minutes ago," he grumbled, but he complied with her wishes. Probably because he didn't want to upset his pregnant wife further, but that was all right. There were more important things to deal with now.

"I love you," she repeated herself. "Despite your past, maybe because of your past, I don't know. I love _you_. Both the boy that you had been, the man that you became. The parts of you that stayed the same and are unchanging, and the parts of you that have been shaped by what happened. And no matter what you said, you had no choice in the whole matter. Some would say it was fate, though I wouldn't be so quick to label it as such." Hermione snuggled closer to him. "I don't care what you've done, you're still the man that I love."

"I thought you said you hardly knew the boy that I was," he reminded her. "And I . . . that's not everything."

"I figured that out." Hermione sighed. It had been so difficult for him to admit that to her. It didn't frighten her much, not after she was able to reason her way out of it. But she had been unreasonable before. If he wasn't ready to face things, then she shouldn't force him. And if he didn't want to reveal to her all of his secrets, that was his prerogative. All she could ask of him was for his love and that would have to be enough. "I'm sorry," she said. "For getting so angry. I wasn't being fair, was I? Just because I want to share everything, just because I can share everything . . . that doesn't mean that you can do the same or that I should expect that from you. I should respect you more than that. I should trust you more than that."

"No . . . I . . . there's so many—" And then, it was he who started to cry, relieved that the fear that had ridden him all for too many years – that Hermione wouldn't love him if she knew the truth of how it had ended – was finally laid to rest. Hermione simply held him, vowing to love him better than she had before.

* * *

Ginny waited nervously in the foyer. Dinner last night had been a disaster, with Hermione clearly upset with her husband for some reason. It was all Ginny could do to not smack her brother on his head for being so gleeful through the entire ordeal. However, neither Hermione or Lord Potter had appeared for breakfast, leading Ginny to believe that they had resolved whatever issue had divided them the night before. The down side was that they still not present, and she had been pressed into service by one very insistent house elf. Miss Lovegood was due to arrive soon, and Ginny had to substitute for Hermione, though she hardly knew the house. Ginny supposed there was the chance that Miss Lovegood would not come, but that would be even more humiliating. She would have to search for another option, and frankly, Ginny thought Miss Lovegood was the best bet. It would take a very odd witch to actually want her brother Ron.

A faint pop sounded in the air, signaling the arrival of Miss Lovegood. She blinked owlishly as she appeared in the room – portkeys were always unsettling at best. Hermione had once said that her husband absolutely despised traveling that way for some reason. Thinking of what Hermione had said made Ginny frown. This was Hermione's house after all. She was the one who should be greeting Miss Lovegood and making her comfortable. But Ginny couldn't refuse when one of the House Elfs pleaded for her to take Hermione's place. The poor thing had been blushing so hard when she had asked Ginny that Ginny didn't have the heart to say no.

"Hello, Miss Lovegood," Ginny said, stepping forward to greet the other witch. "I trust your travel was pleasant enough."

"It was, Ginny," was the response she received. Ginny repressed a wince. Miss Lovegood had an unfortunate tendency to use her first name, thus making it seem as though they were closer than they actually were. It was no wonder that she was considered a little odd. Between her tendency to gravitate towards the use of given names and that strange paper her father wrote – that insisted there was news outside of politics, sports, and society columns – she was a most unusual witch indeed. This was only proven further by her next sentence. "Where's Ron?" she asked.

Ginny reflected that at least she and Mr. Lupin wouldn't have to push her at Ron. All they would need to do was point her in his general direction, and she would know what to do. "He isn't here," she said.

"I can see that," said Miss Lovegood. "And please do call me Luna. Miss Lovegood sounds all stuffy and formal. It sounds too distant for someone who will be my sister."

Ginny held back a sigh and instead thanked the other witch. It would be an advantage for Miss Lovegood to think that they were close. If she thought that way, maybe she would listen to some of Ginny's advice. For one, Ginny thought playing hard to get would work better on Ron than following him around like a lost puppy. Certainly, he had always seemed to be annoyed when Miss Lovegood made an appearance.

Apologizing for the fact that she didn't know where her brother was, Ginny offered to take Miss Lovegood on a short tour of the house, to which she readily agreed. After leaving Miss Lovegood's luggage in the capable hands of the House Elf, they started their tour. Ginny first showed her the library, looking around in vain for Mr. Lupin.

"Are you searching for someone?" asked Miss Lovegood.

"Huh? No, just checking to see if anyone else was in the room so I can introduce you to the other guests," said Ginny.

"There are other guests? How many?"

"Just one actually, besides me and my brother. You will meet him eventually, I suppose."

"Him?" Luna tilted her head and regarded Ginny. "Do I detect a special interest you have for him?"

Ginny turned bright red. "Hardly. He is much older than the both of us. Nearly twice my age as it is. But let us continue on."

"That hardly makes much of a difference—" Miss Lovegood started to say, but Ginny rushed out of the library and into the hallway, leaving her little choice but to follow. Ginny knew that was rude, but speaking about being attracted to Mr. Lupin was not a subject she wanted to discuss.

The tour continued on, though Ginny hardly knew any of the history of the place and Luna would comment on the strangest of objects. They gradually made their way to the front of the house, to the grand staircase that sat opposite the front door. It was on that staircase that they met Hermione at last.

"Ginny! Miss Lovegood!" Hermione paused to catch her breath. "I am exceedingly sorry that I did not meet you earlier, but I'm afraid I lost track of time. Please do accept my apologies."

Ginny glowered at her friend. It hadn't been comfortable for her to play the hostess while Hermione was off doing something else. Miss Lovegood, however, simply smiled. "I expect that being a wife comes with all sorts of duties," she said. "And that your first loyalty must be to your husband, and not to silly girls like me."

"I never said that you were a silly girl," Hermione replied sharply.

"No, you did not. But you always thought that or so it seemed to me," said Miss Lovegood. "And thank you very much for the invitation. I promise I shan't get in your way."

"Miss Lovegood, in all honesty, I do not think you could be a bother if you tried," said Hermione. "And Ginny, please stop glaring at me. I know it wasn't right for me to leave you to do my duty like I did, and for that, I am sorry. There isn't much else I can do except to promise that it won't happen again."

"It had better not," Ginny muttered under her breath. She sighed and was about to accept her friend's apology, when a House Elf—Ginny could never differentiate between them—appeared to announce the arrival of a guest.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy is here," the elf managed to squeak out before the front doors were thrown open. Both the Gryffindors had to refrain from cursing, while Miss Lovegood merely watched the scene. Draco Malfoy strolled through the doors, surveying his surroundings as though he ruled them all.

It was little wonder that Ginny always felt like decking him. And she knew how to hit, unlike Hermione. Her brothers had made sure of that.

"Lady Potter," Mr. Malfoy drawled, glancing her up and down dismissively. He nodded at Hermione, a slight if Ginny ever saw one before turning to face Ginny. "Miss Weasley." He smiled. "It has been so long since we two last met."

"Not long enough," said Ginny through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I do agree dinner would be more appropriate," the infuriating man went on to say. "Where we can sit and discuss old times together. But really, Miss Weasley, I could hardly just show up then. It wouldn't give Lady Potter any notice to set an extra place for dinner."

"And what makes you think that I will do so now?" Hermione snapped.

Even though she was standing on the stairs and therefore, was higher up than him, Malfoy still managed to look down his nose at Hermione. "Because it is only the polite thing to do," he chided her mildly. "Didn't your Muggle parents raise you right? Or did they teach you none of the manners proper to society?"

Hermione scowled fiercely and walked towards the annoying ferret. "Scum like you," she said, her voice intense with hatred, "do not deserve any courtesies to be shown to them." She stopped in front of Malfoy and pointed at the door. "Now get out. Before I make you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Need I point out, Lady Potter, that this is hardly polite?"

"Need I point out that I hardly care?" she shot back. "I will not have the likes of you around my estate or my children. I care not what society thinks of me for not putting up with a conceited, prejudiced little snot like you. So get out and stay out." Hermione smiled chillingly. "Not that you have much choice about either. I was always better at hexes than you—and you need not take my word when I say that Harry is excellent when it comes to setting wards to keep nuisances out."

Faced with Hermione's ultimatum, Malfoy had little choice but to leave. Ginny forgave her friend then and there for her earlier actions. Hermione getting rid of that ferret, that always seemed to be there to annoy her, more than made up for anything she could have done earlier.

Ginny only hoped that Malfoy would stay away. She didn't feel up to dealing with him or his advances once again.

* * *

After showing Miss Lovegood to her room so she could freshen up and making sure that Ginny wasn't still upset with her, Hermione proceeded to find her husband. She wouldn't put it past Malfoy to try and find a way in, so it would be best for all those concerned if Harry put up those wards right away. She found him in the Gold Room, along with Remus and Mr. Weasley. Remus was between the two other men and looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Hermione dismissed that. There were more important things to take care of.

"Harry, we have a problem," she announced as she entered the room.

"Another one?"

"Yes. Guess who just decided to drop by for a visit?"

"No one I would want to see is my guess," said Harry. "Just tell me, Hermione."

"Draco Malfoy."

Harry cursed fluently, only to be surpassed by the vitriol coming from Mr. Weasley. Normally, Hermione would frown at the use of such language, but at the moment, she was too busy frowning at the standards that stopped her from using it. For if there was anyone who ever deserved to be cursed, it was Malfoy. For he had delighted in tormenting Gryffindors while they all were at Hogwarts. Hermione especially hated him for all his remarks about her lack of a magical heritage.

"I have managed to take care of him in the mean time," said Hermione. "But I think he will be back, even though I warned him not to. So I need you to set wards to make sure that he cannot set foot on to the estate."

"Hermione," reproached Remus. "That is hardly polite."

"Malfoy is a right bastard who doesn't deserve polite treatment," scoffed Mr. Weasley.

"I do not care what is polite and what is not," said Hermione, looking Remus straight in the eye. "I remember how he treated me and all the other Muggle-borns at Hogwarts. And he still holds those attitudes, with the way he dismissed me and expected me to accede to his demands for an invitation. And I will not be having with such treatment. I will not accept him being here. I will not bow my head and not speak up against such prejudice simply because society would frown upon my doing so." She bit her lip before continuing. "And I will not settle for having to explain to James and Alex, while they are still so young, why some people hate their mama and their mama's parents."

"Nor should you have to," said Harry, walking forward to be by her side. "Don't look at me like that, Remus. I know you disapprove. But you didn't have to go through seven years of listening to that bastard and his diatribes about anyone who wasn't Pureblood." Harry took Hermione's hand in his. "If you two gentlemen will excuse us, my wife and I have a few wards to set." The two of them left. Oddly enough, this time around, it was Remus and not Mr. Weasley, who thought poorly of their departure.

* * *

Draco clenched his fists as he walked into his newly acquired house. That hadn't gone well at all. He had barely greeted Ginny when that little Granger bint had kicked him out. Trust a Muggle like Granger to not be able to control her emotions when she was beset by all the hormones witches experienced when pregnant. She was lucky that he didn't take her up on her word. Draco doubted she could have bested him in a duel, but he didn't think it would impress his bride-to-be if she saw him defeating an obviously pregnant witch. So the better course of action was to leave and to accept Granger's apology gracefully when she did give it.

"I did not expect you back so soon," said his mother as he entered the dining room. Narcissa only needed one look at his stormy complexion to know that he was upset about something. "How did it go?" she asked anyway.

"That Granger bint nearly tossed me out of the manor," he snarled.

Narcissa sadly shook her head. "That is Lady Potter to the likes of you. She has been married now for several years. You should remember that," she told him. "And I hardly think the countess would be so rude if you didn't give her reason to be."

"Me?" He looked innocently at his mother, but she wasn't fooled. "Fine. I might have slighted her in my greeting . . . and I might have invited myself over to dinner. But that was only because she wasn't offering! And she should have offered to invite a new neighbor like myself over."

"My son, if you were rude to her like that, you only gave her cause to be rude to you," Narcissa said. "If your purpose was to procure an invitation, you would have better served it by being polite. That rings especially true given how much reason the Gryffindors have to despise you."

"They can despise me all they like, Mother, but they can at least be polite about it," he protested.

"Listen to yourself! You are hardly making any sense. These are Gryffindors we are speaking of. If they were Slytherins . . . then yes, they would invite you and treat you politely, while hating your guts every second. Though I must admit, that is hardly satisfying." She sighed dramatically. "Being able to say what you really think must be enjoyable."

"Well, I really think that I—"

"Made a mess of things," his mother finished for him. "And do not try that glare on me, Draco. I am your mother, after all. To me, that is a pale imitation of the glare your father had." She looked down at her hands, saddened by that thought. "But enough! It will not do for you to hold on to his philosophy when it has so clearly lost. Make your peace with the Potters if you wish to court Miss Weasley."

"That is going to be a difficult task, given that the countess threatened to have wards to prevent my setting foot on their land."

Narcissa's jaw dropped. "What did you do? What did you do for her to make such a threat?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Draco caught the look his mother was giving him and knew it was no good. He couldn't fool her. "Fine. I insulted her parents and said that a pair of Muggles wouldn't know proper manners." His mother buried her face in her hands, and Draco felt affronted all over again. "And stop that! I admit it wasn't prudent of me to say that, but she was being rude as well."

"As a gentleman," said Narcissa, "you must take extra care to be polite to a lady. Even if that lady is being rude to you. And as someone seeking an invitation, you should not have insulted your potential hostess like that."

"I know, Mother. It is all a moot point anyway, as I doubt Lady Potter will have me over now." He sprawled into his favorite armchair. "I might as well start searching for another bride. Because the reception I would receive at the hands of the Weasleys would only be worse."

"A search that will undoubtedly land you back in Italy for several more years as you decide you like none of the girls currently leaving the schoolroom," Narcissa remarked. "You will not give up that easily, Draco. It would not befit you or your family for you to turn tail and run at the first difficultly. Besides, all is not lost. You have your mother here." She smiled. "And fortunately, I think I can wrangle an invitation where you failed to do so."

* * *

_**A/N**_ : I'm just going back trying to fix the formatting on some of these chapters. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially the formatting being sketchy. I do have a yahoo group where all the files are as they should be if you'd rather read them there. Thanks once again for reading my fic. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen : Schemes

**Seasons of Love**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen : Schemes**

Ginny was eternally grateful to her hosts when Malfoy did not show up for dinner that night. Everyone was fuming about his appearance—well, everyone except Mr. Lupin and Luna. She had to admire Mr. Lupin's composure, and she wondered whether its source was his greater experience or perhaps his affliction. As for Luna, she was always a touch off. She never seemed to worry about the same things that most people would worry about. Sometimes Ginny wondered if she was all right in the head. Other times, she was so astonishingly observant, Ginny had to wonder if Luna simply had a deeper way at looking at things.

As the atmosphere indoors was still so strained and tense, Ginny invited Luna out to spend time with her on this afternoon. It was nice to have someone to speak with. Besides, Miss Lovegood was known for having a habit of wandering around and Ginny wished to spare the other witch the embarrassment of running into Hermione and her husband when they were busy entertaining each other. No, it was much better for the two of them to be sit and read outside. Most of the time was spent with the two of them reading side by side. At times, Luna would read aloud from her book about some creature or other and request that Ginny keep an eye out in case said creature was about. Each time, Ginny would smile and agree. She had every intent of keeping her promise—if she did see any of the fabulous creatures that Luna read about, she would most certainly not be able to keep quiet about it.

"You know, it is quite flattering that he still likes you even after all this time," Luna said all of a sudden.

"Pardon me?" said Ginny. She looked questioningly at Luna. She was rather certain that Luna was speaking to her. There was no one else about who she could be speaking to. Yet, her sentence made no sense.

"Draco Malfoy. I was most surprised to see him. Not only is there no love lost between him and Lord Potter, you weren't very pleasant to him the last time you saw him," Luna explained.

Ginny winced. "Please, do not mention him to me. I would very much like to forget that he even exists."

"But that's not fair, Ginny. Not when he is so sweet to you!"

"Sweet? Luna, I defy you to find any time when that man has been even civil to me or my friends!"

"Sweet and civil are not the same thing," Luna said sadly. "Your brother is always very civil to me, but he has never done anything as sweet for me as Mr. Malfoy has done for you."

"I am sorry, Luna, but I do not wish to continue this conversation any more. Mr. Malfoy is a great part of the reason why everyone inside is so upset at the moment."

"Yes, he is a part, but not the greater part." Luna stared at Ginny until Ginny met her eyes. "The last time you saw him I believe you threatened to punch him if you ever saw his smiling face again."

"Yes, I know. I would have carried that threat out too, if Hermione had not taken care of him."

"You see! He knows that too, but he still sought you out! Though I do wonder what he said to you in the first place that made you issue such a threat."

"It wasn't a threat, but a promise." Ginny sighed and placed her book down. Closing her eyes, she let herself fall back until she was laying on the grass. Luna didn't know everything. She didn't know how Malfoy had sought to play Ginny for a fool. But Ginny was no fool. She hadn't fallen for any of his tricks back then, and she had no intent to start falling for them now.

"Ginny," said Luna softly, "even if you know it is not going to end happily, I think it is better to believe in romance and to trust that you will not get hurt. Sometimes being untrusting and suspicious is what gets you hurt the most."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Ginny. She hoped Luna would drop the subject. There was no good to come from Draco Malfoy or any of his plots, and thankfully, Ginny knew they would not bother her here. Her dear friends would see to that.

* * *

Taking a sip from her cup, Hermione gently placed it back on the table, taking care not to spill any of the tea still in it. She warily glanced over at the other witch, who was currently nibbling on a biscuit. Hermione had not expected any visitors this afternoon, much less such an unwelcome one as this one.

Nevertheless, Narcissa Malfoy was polite, where her son had not been, and Hermione had been unable to find any reason to turn her away. So she had wound up serving tea to the older witch in one of the grander sitting rooms. They had already covered the required topics in regards to the weather and innocent bits of gossip in regards to the current season in London. Now, however, Hermione had run out of safe topics to focus on.

Quite frankly, she wanted to ask the other witch what she wanted and why did she feel the need to visit Hermione and her family. Hermione bit her lip. She would wait Mrs. Malfoy out. Eventually she would give up some sort of information.

"If you do not mind, Lady Potter," said Mrs Malfoy, "though I fear it is not exactly proper, I would like to extend my apologies."

"I am afraid that I am unaware of anything that you have to apologize for," Hermione replied smoothly. Aside from the fact that both Mrs. Malfoy's husband and sister had been sadistic murderers, but fortunately, Hermione stopped herself from adding that.

"For my son's rather atrocious manners," Mrs. Malfoy explained. She signed heavily and clasp her hands together in her lap. "I am most sorry. You must think me the worst of mothers to have not raised my son better than that. I promise you I did take him to task, but alas. It has been my experience that the older one's children become, the less inclined they are to heed what you say." She took another sip of tea.

"Sometimes, even when they are young, they find it hard to listen to you," Hermione said with what she hoped resembled a smile. "As mothers, I am sure we all do our best."

"Yes, but it was my fault that he showed up," Mrs Malfoy said. Her face didn't give the slightest hint that she was telling a rather bold lie. "I could hardly come over here, until he introduced himself first. He did not want to come, but I made him, seeing that I would like to get to know you and your husband better."

"You do?" Hermione asked dumbly. She had no idea why Mrs. Malfoy would ever want to associate with either her or Harry. From what she knew of Mrs. Malfoy's connections, she wasn't favorably disposed to anyone who wasn't pureblood.

"Of course. But perhaps you have forgotten. Your husband is my dear cousin's godson." Mrs Malfoy smiled wistfully. "Forgive me for saying this, but he is probably the closest thing to a nephew I have."

"I am sorry, but I was not aware that you and Sirius Black were close," Hermione noted.

"That is no surprise. After Sirius was . . . removed from the family tree, none of us were allowed to see him. He was my cousin though, and we often played together as children. Very gallant, he was, and very handsome." Mrs. Malfoy then actually blushed. She looked quite charming as she did so. "For a time, I admit that I fancied myself half in love with him. I never said anything about it, given our family's expectations and all."

"Your family's expectations?"

"Yes. My engagement was no secret to society at all, having been arranged when I was practically in the cradle. As for Sirius, I know that everyone expected him to ask for Bella, but that would have never worked. Maybe if my aunt was willing for him to pursue Andromeda instead . . . but that is all in the past."

"Indeed," said Hermione. She did not know what else to say. She could scarce believe her ears. Narcissa Malfoy half in love with Sirius Black? She would have never dreamed of such a scenario. Mrs. Malfoy seemed sincere enough, yet Hermione still wondered if the other witch was being entirely truthful with her.

"Alas, the past is something that cannot be changed," Mrs. Malfoy stated after a few minutes of silence. "Yet the future is ever-changing, and that is why one must focus on that. Which is why I am here. Though I know that you and yours do not consider me family, I consider both you and your husband to be part of my family by virtue of the fact that your husband is my cousin's godson. I confess it is a distant link, but it is still a link. Perhaps if I had been stronger in the past, it would be stronger too." Mrs Malfoy sighed once more. "What is done is done. I do not posses such a wealth of relations that I will ignore the bonds that I still do have, regardless of their strength or distance."

Hermione nodded. What was being said made sense, but if anyone had told here even a week ago that Narcissa Malfoy considered her to be some sort of long lost relationship, she would have sent straight away for a doctor to examine that person's head.

"Lady Potter, I have been given a second chance in life, having survived everything that has happened since you and your husband started attending Hogwarts. It is very nerve-wracking to come here and be so blunt and open. Yet your reputation precedes you, and I do hope that like life, you too are willing to give this old witch a second chance."

Yet again, Hermione did not know quite what to say. If Narcissa Malfoy wasn't sincere, then she was the most cunning Slytherin Hermione had ever had the misfortune to run across.

Fortunately, Mrs Malfoy did not continue to explore that vein of conversation. Instead, she turned back to London and inquired whether or not her party would be making any trips there, if only to see a couple plays. Hermione was able to recover from her shock and respond to Mrs. Malfoy's inquiries. Mrs. Malfoy continued to be the most pleasant of guests. When she took her leave, she invited not only Hermione, but Ginny and Luna as well, to visit her any afternoon for tea, saying that she was very much in need of female companionship. Much to her surprise, Hermione had found herself promising to visit Mrs. Malfoy in a couple of days. The other witch's warm response did much to allay Hermione's suspicions.

As for the rest of them—well, Hermione had every intent of speaking with Remus Lupin. He would know better than anyone else if it were true that Narcissa Malfoy had spent time with Sirius as a child and just how close they had been. If what the other witch had said was true and if she continued to be pleasant, then Hermione saw no reason not to try and get to know her better.

Narcissa Malfoy's son, however, was completely a different matter. Hermione doubted there was anything that could make her give that sorry excuse for a wizard another chance to do her and hers harm.

* * *

"Well, Mother, how did it go?" drawled Draco from his chair as Narcissa entered the library of his new home. "Given how long you were away, I presume the silly bint didn't just kick you out."

"Lady Potter has lovely manners, which is more than I can say for you, dear," replied Narcissa shortly. "How many times do I have to tell you to stand up when a lady enters the room?"

"But it's just you, my dearest, darling Mother. I know you will forgive me."

"Confidence is good, but arrogance . . . arrogance can only lead to your downfall. You would do good to remember that." Narcissa took a seat across from her son. "You should have remembered your manners when you first went over there. If only you had, I am sure that I would have already had an invitation to dinner with the Potters and their friends."

"That confident are you?" asked Draco. "It almost borders on arrogance."

Narcissa glared at him. "Hardly. It would also serve you well to learn to distinguish between the two of them. Unlike you, I know how to tell pretty lies with just the right mixture of truth to seem believable. Alas, with the damage you have done, I will need time before either of the Potters will be even willing to meet with you for you to apologize."

"Me? Apologize? Mother, are you out of your mind?"

"No, I am not. Mark my words, Draco. You chose Ginny Weasley as your bride. And so you shall have her. I will do everything in my power to make it so. However, if you want any semblance of a civil relationship, you needs must make your peace with her very dear friends."

Draco groaned. "Part of me thinks that this is when I should be planning my escape back to the continent."

"Do that, Draco, and I will not forgive you." Narcissa reached out and took her son's hands. "Don't be so difficult. While you may not share your reasons with your mother, I know reasons exist why you wish for that particular witch to be your bride. If the tasks proves to be impossible, then we shall take our leave of the field." She smiled. "But things are not as bad as you might imagine. Give your poor old mother a bit of time, and you will be seeing your intended witch again in no time.

* * *

_**Author's note: **_To anyone still reading this, I do apologize for the long gap between updates. It took me awhile to find my notes, and then I had several bad starts with this one, seeing how it's so pivotal to how things will turn out. Finally, I'm able to tie in a couple plot points that have been on the backburner since the first chapter. As always, reviews are much appreciated and thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story in the past.


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